BANCROFT 
LIBRARY 

•$• 

THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


The  Life  and  Adventures 

OF 

NAT  LOVE 

-. 

BETTER  KNOWN  IN  THE  CATTLE  COUNTRY  AS 

"DEADWOOD  DICK" 

-BY  HIMSELF _ 


A  TRUE  HISTORY  OF  SLAVERY  DAYS,  LIFE  ON    THE 

GREAT   CATTLE  RANGES  AND  ON  THE  PLAINS 

OF  THE  "WILD  AND  WOOLLY "  WEST, 

BASED    ON    FACTS,    AND    PER- 

SONAL    EXPERIENCES 

OF  THE  AUTHOR 


LOS    ANGELES     CALIFORNIA 

COPYRIGHT     1907 
NAT  LOVE,   AUTHOR 

ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 


Nat  Love,  Better  Known  as  Deadwood  Dick,  and  His  Family 


PREFACE 

Having  passed  the  half  century  mark  in  life's  journey,  and 
yielding  to  persistent  requests  of  many  old  and  valued  friends 
of  the  past  and  present,  I  have  decided  to  write  the  record  of 
slave,  cow-boy  and  pullman  porter  will  prove  of  interest  to  the 
reading  public  generally  and  particularly  to  those  who  prefer 
facts  to  fiction,  (and  in  this  case  again  facts  will  prove  stranger 
than  fiction).  I  assure  my  readers  that  every  event  chronicled 
in  this  history  is  based  on  facts,  and  my  personal  experiences, 
of  more  than  fifty  years  of  an  unusually  adventurous  life. 

While  many  things  contained  in  this  record  happened 
many  years  ago,  they  are  as  fresh  in  my  memory  as  if  they 
happened  but  yesterday.  I  have  tried  to  record  events  simply 
as  they  are,  without  attempting  to  varnish  over  the  bad 
spots  or  draw  on  my  imagination  to  fill  out  a  chapter  at  the 
cost  of  the  truth.  It  has  been  my  aim  to  record  things  just 
as  they  happened,  believing  they  will  prove  of  greater  interest 
thereby;  and  if  I  am  able  to  add  to  the  interest  and  enjoyment 
of  a  single  reader  I  will  consider  myself  well  repaid  for  the 
time  and  labor  of  preparing  this  history. 

To  my  playmates  of  my  boyhood,  who  may  chance  to 
read  this  I  send  greetings  and  wish  them  well.  To  the  few 
friends,  who  assisted  myself  and  widowed  mother  in  our 
early  sti  ggles,  I  tender  my  sincerest  thanks,  and  hope  they 
have  prospered  as  they  deserve.  For  those  who  proved  our 
enemies,  I  have  no  word  of  censure.  They  have  reaped  their 
reward. 

To  that  noble  but  ever  decreasing  band  of  men  under 
whose  blue  and  buckskin  shirts  there  lives  a  soul  as  great 
and  beats  a  heart  as  true  as  ever  human  breast  contained — 
to  the  cow-boys,  rangers,  scouts,  hunters  and  trappers  and 
cattle-men  of  the  "GREAT  WESTERN  PLAINS,"  I  extend 
the  hand  of  greeting  acknowledging  the  FATHER-HOOD  of 
GOD  and  the  BROTHERHOOD  of  men ;  and  to  my  mother's 
Sainted  name-  this  book  is  reverently  dedicated. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  I. 

Slavery  Days;  the  Old  Plantation;  My  Early  Foraging;  the  Stolen 
Demijohn;  My  First  Drunk 7 

CHAPTER  II. 

The  War;  the  Rebels  and  the  Yankees;  I  Raise  a  Regiment;  Diffi- 
culty in  Finding  an  Enemy;  Ash  Cake;  Freedom 14 

CHAPTER  III. 

Raising  Tobacco;  Our  First  Year  of  Freedom;  More  Privations; 
Father  Dies;  "It  Never  Rains  but  It  Pours;"  I  Become  the 
Head  of  the  Family;  I  Start  to  Work  at  One  Dollar  and  Fifty 
Cents  a  Month 19 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Boyhood  Sports;  More  Devilment;  the  Rock  Battles;  I  Hunt 
Rabbits  in  My  Shirt  Tail;  My  First  Experience  in  Rough  Rid- 
ing; a  Question  of  Breaking  the  Horse  or  Breaking  My  Neck. .  29 

CHAPTER  V. 

Home  Life;  Picking  Berries;  the  Pigs  Commit  Larceny;  Nutting; 
We  Go  to  Market;  My  First  Desire  to  See  the  World;  I  win  a 
Horse  in  a  Raffle;  the  Last  of  Home 36 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  World  is  Before  Me;  I  Join  the  Texas  Cowboys;  Red  River 
Dick;  My  First  Outfit;  My  First  Indian  Fight;  I  Learn  to 
Use  My  Gun 40 

CHAPTER  VII. 

I  Learn  to  Speak  Spanish;  I  Am  Made  Chief  Brand  Reader;  the 
Big  Round-up;  the  7XL  Steer;  Long  Rides;  Hunting  Strays...  46 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

On  the  Trail;  a  Texas  Storm;  Battle  with  the  Elements;  After 
Business  Comes  Pleasure 52 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Enroute  to  Wyoming;  the  Indians  Demand  Toll;  the  Fight;  a 
Buffalo  Stampele;  Tragic  Death  of  Cal  Surcey;  An  Eventful 
Trip 58 

CHAPTER  X. 

We  Make  a  Trip  to  Nebraska;  the  "Hole  in  the  Wall  Country;" 
a  Little  Shooting  Scrape;  Cattle  on  the  Trail  and  the  Way  to 
Handle  Them;  a  Bit  of  M'oralization 66 

CHAPTER  XI. 

A  Buffalo  Hunt;  I  Lose  My  Lariat  and  Saddle;  I  Order  a  Drink  for 
Myself  and  My  Horse;  a  Close  Place  in  Old  Mexico 72 

CHAPTER  XII. 

A  Big  Mustang  Hunt;  We  Tire  Them  Out;  the  Indians  Capture 
Mess  Wagon  and  Cook;  Our  Bill  of  Fare  Buffalo  Meat  with- 
out Salt  .  82 


CHAPTER  XIII 

On  the  Trail  with  Three  Thousand  Head  of  Texas  Steers;  Rumors 
of  Trouble  with  the  Indians;  at  Deadwood,  S.  D.;  the  Roping 
Contest;  I  Win  the  Name  of  "Deadwood  Dick;"  the  Shooting 
Match;  the  Custer  Massacre;  We  View  the  Battlefield;  Gov- 
ernment Scouts ;  at  Home  Again 88 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Riding  the  Range;  the  Fight  with  Yellow  Dog's  Tribe;  I  am  Cap- 
tured by  the  Indians  and  Adopted  into  the  Tribe;  My  Escape; 
I  ride  a  Hundred  Miles  in  Twelve  Hours  without  a  Saddle; 
My  Indian  Pony;  "Yellow  Dog  Chief;"  the  Boys  Present  Me 
with  a  New  Outfit;  in  the  Saddle  and  on  the  Trail  Again 98 

CHAPTER  XV. 

On  a  Trip  to  Dodge  City,  Kan.;  I  Rope  One  of  Uncle  Sam's 
Cannon;  Captured  by  the  Soldiers;  Bat  Masterson  to  My 
Rescue;  Lost  on  the  Prairie;  the  Buffalo  Hunter  Cater;  My 
Horse  Gets  Away  and  Leaves  Me  Alone  on  the  Prairie;  the 
Blizzard;  Frozen  Stiff 106 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Old  Haze  and  Elsworth  Trail;  Our  Trip  to  Cheyenne; 
Ex-Sheriff  Pat  F.  Garret;  the  Death  of  Billy  the  "Kid;"  the 
Lincoln  County  Cattle  War 1 16 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Another  Trip  to  Old  Mexico;  I  Rope  an  Engine;  I  Fall  in  Love; 
My  Courtship;  Death  of  M'y  Sweetheart;  My  Promised  Wife; 
I  Must  Bear  a  Charmed  Life;  the  Advent  of  Progress;  the 
Last  of  the  Range 123 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  Pullman  Service;  Life  on  the  Rail;  My  First  Trip;  a  Slump 
in  Tips;  I  Become  Disgusted  and  Quit;  a  Period  of  Husking; 
My  Next  Trip  on  the  Pullman;  Tips  and  the  People  Who 
Give  Them  131 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

The  Pullman  Palace  Sleeping  Car;  Long  Trips  on  the  Rail;  the 
Wreck;  One  Touch  of  Nature  Makes  the  Whole  World  Kin; 
a  Few  of  the  Railroads  Over  Which  I  Have  Traveled;  the 
Invalids  and  the  Care  We  Give  Them  137 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Tourist  Sleeping  Car;  the  Chair  Car;  the  Safeguards  of 
Modern  Railroading;  See  America,  Then  Let  Your  Chest 
Swell  with  Pride  that  You  are  an  American 142 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

A  Few  of  the  Railroad  Men  Under  Whom  I  Have  Served;  George 
M.  Pullman;  the  Town  of  Pullman,  111.;  American  Railroads 
Lead  the  World ;  a  Few  Figures 148 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  Few  Reminiscences  of  the  Range:  Some  Men  I  Have  Met; 
Buffalo  Bill;  the  James  Brothers;  Yellowstone  Kelly;  the 
MWder  of  Buck  Cannon  by  Bill  Woods;  the  Suicide  of  Jack 
Zimick  155 


This  book   is   dedicated   to   my  wife, 
MRS.  ALICE  LOVE 


CHAPTER  L 

SLAVERY  DAYS.  THE  OLD  PLANTATION.  MY 
EARLY  FORAGING.  THE  STOLEN  DEMIJOHN. 
MY  FIRST  DRINK.  THE  CURSE  OF  SLAVERY. 

In  an  old  log  cabin,  on  my  Master's  plantation  in  Davidson 
County  in  Tennessee  in  June,  1854,  I  first  saw  the  light  of  day. 
The  exact  date  of  my  birth  I  never  knew,  because  in  those 
days  no  count  was  kept  of  such  trival  matters  as  the  birth 
of  a  slave  baby.  They  were  born  and  died  and  the  account  was 
balanced  in  the  gains  and  losses  of  the  Master's  chattels,  and 
one  more  or  less  did  not  matter  much  one  way  or  another. 
My  father  and  mother  were  owned  by  Robert  Love,  an  ex- 
tensive planter  and  the  owner  of  many  slaves.  He  was  in 
his  way  and  in  comparison  with  many  other  slave  owners  of 
those  days  a  kind  and  indulgent  Master. 

My  father  was  a  sort  of  foreman  of  the  slaves  on  the  plan- 
tation, and  my  mother  presided  over  the  kitchen  at  the  big 
house  and  my  Master's  table,  and  among  her  other  duties 
were  to  milk  the  cows  and  run  the  loom,  weaving  clothing  for 
the  other  slaves.  This  left  her  scant  time  to  look  after  me, 
so  I  early  acquired  the  habit  of  looking  out  for  myself.  The 
other  members  of  father's  family  were  my  sister  Sally,  about 
eight  years  old,  and  my  brother  Jordan,  about  five.  My  sister 
Sally  was  supposed  to  look  after  me  when  my  mother  was 
otherwise  occupied ;  but  between  my  sister's  duties  of  helping 
mother  and  chasing  the  flies  from  Master's  table,  I  received 
very  little  looking  after  from  any  of  the  family,  therefore 
necessity  compelled  me  at  an  early  age  to  look  after  myself 
and  rustle  my  own  grub.  My  earliest  recollections  are  of 
pushing  a  chair  in  front  of  me  and  toddling  from  one  to  the 
other  of  my  Master's  family  to  get  a  mouthful  to  eat  like  a 
pet  dog,  and  later  on  as  I  became  older,  making  raids  on  the 
garden  to  satisfy  my  hunger,  much  to  the  damage  of  the 
young  onions,  watermelons,  turnips,  sweet  potatoes,  and  other 


DEADWOOD  DICK  9 

things  I  could  find  to  eat.  We  had  to  use  much  caution  during 
these  raids  on  the  garden,  because  we  well  knew  what  we 
would  catch  if  someone  caught  us,  but  much  practice  made 
us  experts  in  escaping  undetected. 

One  day  when  Master  and  the  family  went  to 
town  mother  decided  to  make  some  wine  of  which  she  was 
very  fond,  accordingly  she  gathered  some  grapes  and  after 
pressing  them  she  made  some  fairly  good  wine.  This  she 
placed  in  a  demijohn,  and  this  for  better  security  she  hid  in 
the  garden,  as  she  thought  unknown  to  anyone,  but  my  brother, 
sister  and  myself  had  been  watching  the  process  with  consid- 
erable curiosity,  which  finally  reached  such  a  pitch  that  there 
was  nothing  to  it;  we  must  sample  a  liquid  that  looked  so 
good.  So  Jordan  went  to  the  hay  loft  from  where  a  good  view 
could  be  obtained  all  around,  while  myself  and  Sally  busied 
ourselves  in  the  vineyard.  Presently  Mother  thinking  all  secure 
left  the  house  with  the  demijohn  and  proceeded  to  hide  it. 
Jordan,  from  the  hay  loft,  noted  that  mother  never  left  the 
garden  until  she  returned  to  the  house,  empty  handed,  but  he 
was  unable  to  see  the  exact  hiding  place. 

It  was  several  days  later  while  passing  through  the 
garden  that  we  ran  across  the  lost  demijohn.  It  did  not  take 
us  long  to  discover  that  its  contents  suited  our  tastes.  Sally 
and  Jordan  dragged  it  into  a  sweet  corn  patch,  where  we  were 
safe  from  observation.  An  oyster  can  was  secured  to  serve 
as  a  glass  and  the  way  we  attacked  that  wine  was  a  caution 
to  the  Temperance  Workers.  And  I  can  assure  you  we  en- 
joyed ourselves  for  a  while,  but  for  how  long  I  am  unable 
to  tell  exactly.  Mother  soon  missed  us  but  being  very  busy 
she  could  not  look  for  us  until  evening,  when  she  started  out 
to  look  us  up,  after  searching  and  calling  in  vain.  She  decided 
to  take  the  dogs  to  help  find  us.  With  their  aid  we  were  soon 
located,  lying  in  the  sweet  corn,  "dead  drunk,"  while  the 
demijohn  quite  empty,  bottom  side  up,  stared  at  mother 
with  a  reproachful  stare,  and  the  oyster  can  which  had  served 
up  and  took  me  to  the  house,  and  let  Sally  and  Jordan  lie  in 
near  by,  bearing  mute  witness  against  us.  Mother  picked  me 
up  and  took  me  to  the  house,  and  let  Sally  and  Jordan  lie  in 


DEADWOOD  DICK  11 

the  sweet  corn  all  night,  to  dwell  on  the  events.  Immediately 
preceding  our  return  to  consciousness  is  a  painful  subject 
to  me  as  it  was  exceedingly  painful  then.  I  was  most  feverish 
the  next  day  with  a  head  on  my  shoulders  several  sizes  larger 
than  the  one  I  was  used  to  wearing.  Sally  and  Jordan  were 
enjoying  about  the  same  health  as  myself,  but  the  state  of 
our  health  did  not  exempt  us  from  mother's  wrath.  We  all 
received  a  good  sound  old-fashioned  thrashing.  A  fitting 
prelude  to  my  first  "drunk." 

I  suppose  I  acquired  the  taste  for  strong  drink  on  this  oc- 
casion; be  that  as  it  may,  the  fact  remains  that  I  could  out- 
drink  any  man  I  ever  met  in  the  cattle  country.  I  could  drink 
large  quantities  of  the  fiery  stuff  they  called  whiskey  on  the 
range  without  it  affecting  me  in  any  way,  but  I  have  never 
been  downright  drunk  since  that  time  in  the  sweet,  corn  patch. 
Our  plantation  was  situated  in  the  heart  of  the  black  belt 
of  the  south,  and  on  the  plantations  all  around  us  were  thou- 
sands of  slaves,  all  engaged  in  garnering  the  dollars  that  kept 
up  the  so-called  aristocracy  of  the  south,  and  many  of  the 
proud  old  families  owe  their  standing  and  wealth  to  the  toil 
and  sweat  of  the  black  man's  brow,  where  if  they  had  to 
pay  the  regular  rate  of  wages  to  hire  laborers  to  cultivate 
their  large  estates,  their  wealth  would  not  have  amounted 
to  a  third  of  what  it  was.  Wealth  was  created,  commerce 
carried  on,  cities  built,  and  the  new  world  well  started  on  the 
career  that  has  led  to  its  present  greatness  and  standing  in 
the  world  of  nations.  All  this  was  accomplished  by  the  sweat 
of  the  black  man's  brow.  By  black  man  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
only  the  black  men,  but  the  black  woman  and  black  child  all 
helped  to  make  the  proud  south  what  it  was,  the  boast  of 
every  white  man  and  woman,  with  a  drop  of  southern  blood 
in  their  veins,  and  what  did  the  black  man  get  in  return?  His 
keep  and  care  you  say?  Ye  gods  and  little  fishes!  Is  there 
a  man  living  today  who  would  be  willing  to  do  the  work  per- 
formed by  the  slaves  of  that  time  for  the  same  returns,  his 
care  and  keep?  No,  my  friends,  we  did  it  because  we  were 
forced  to  do  it  by  the  dominant  race.  We  had  as  task  masters, 
in  many  instances,  perfect  devils  in  human  form,  men  who 


12 


LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 


DEADWOOD  DICK  13 

delighted  in  torturing  the  black  human  beings,  over  whom 
chance  and  the  accident  of  birth  had  placed  them.  I  have  seen 
men  beaten  to  the  ground  with  the  butts  of  the  long  whips 
carried  by  these  brutal  overseers,  and  for  no  other  reason 
than  that  they  could  not  raise  to  their  shoulders  a  load  suf- 
ficient for  four  men  to  carry.  I  have  seen  the  long,  cruel 
lash  curl  around  the  shoulders  of  women  who  refused  to  com- 
ply with  the  licentious  wishes  of  the  men  who  owned  them, 
body  and  soul — did  I  say  soul?  No,  they  did  not  own  their 
soul ;  that  belonged  to  God  alone,  and  many  are  the  souls  that 
have  returned  to  him  who  gave  them,  rather  than  submit 
to  the  desires  of  their  masters,  desires  to  which  submission  was 
worse  than  death.  I  have  seen  the  snake-like  lash  draw  blood 
from  the  tender  limbs  of  mere  babies,  hardly  more  than  able 
to  toddle,  their  only  offense  being  that  their  skin  was  black. 
And  young  as  I  was  my  blood  often  boiled  as  I  witnessed 
these  cruel  sights,  knowing  that  they  were  allowed  by  the 
laws  of  the  land  in  which  I  was  born.  I  used  to  think  it  was 
not  the  country's  fault,  but  the  fault  of  the  men  who  made  the 
laws.  Of  all  the  curses  of  this  fair  land,  the  greatest  curse 
of  all  was  the  slave  auction  block  of  the  south,  where  human 
flesh  was  bought  and  sold.  Husbands  were  torn  from  their 
wives,  the  baby  from  its  mother's  breast,  and  the  most  sacred 
commands  of  God  were  violated  under  the  guise  of  modern 
law,  or  the  law  of  the  land,  which  for  more  than  two  hundred 
years  has  boasted  of  its  freedom,  and  the  freedom  of  its  people. 

Some  of  the  slaves,  like  us,  had  kind  and  indulgent  mas- 
ters. These  were  lucky  indeed,  as  their  lot  was  somewhat  im- 
proved over  their  less  fortunate  brothers,  but  even  their  lot  was 
the  same  as  that  of  the  horse  or  cow  of  the  present  day.  They 
were  never  allowed  to  get  anything  in  the  nature  of  education, 
as  smart  negroes  were  not  in  much  demand  at  that  time,  and 
the  reason  was  too  apparent,  education  meant  the  death  of 
the  institution  of  slavery  in  this  country,  and  so  the  slave 
owners  took  good  care  that  their  slaves  got  none  of  it. 

Go  and  see  the  play  of  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,"  and  you  will 
see  the  black  man's  life  as  I  saw  it  when  a  child.  And  Harriett 
Beecher  Stowe,  the  black  man's  Saviour,  well  deserves  the 
sacred  shrine  she  holds,  along  with  the  great  Lincoln,  in  the 
black  man's  heart. 


CHAPTER  IL 

WAR.  'THE  REBELS  AND  YANKEES."  I  RAISE  A 
REGIMENT  TO  FIGHT.  DIFFICULTY  IN  FINDING 
AN  ENEMY.  ASH  SAKE.  FREEDOM. 

When  I  was  ten  years  old  the  war  broke  out  between  the 
''North  and  the  South."  And  there  was  little  else  talked  about, 
among  the  slaves  as  well  as  the  slave  owners  of  the  neighbor- 
hood. And  naturally  the  many  different  stories  we  heard 
worked  us  children  to  a  high  state  of  excitement.  So  much 
so  that  we  wanted  to  go  to  war,  and  fight  for  the  Union,  be- 
cause among  us  slave  children  there  was  no  difference  of 
opinion,  as  to  which  side  was  right. 

The  Union  was  "IT,"  and  we  were  all  "Yankees."  Not 
being  able  to  go  to  war  as  our  masters  did,  we  concluded  to 
play  war,  accordingly  I  gathered  all  the  boys  of  the  neighbor- 
hood together,  into  a  regiment,  which  it  was  my  intention  to 
divide  into  two  parties  of  Rebels  and  Yankees,  but  in  this  I  met 
an  insurmountable  obstacle.  Not  one  of  the  boys  wanted  to  be 
a  rebel,  consequently  we  had  to  look  elsewhere  for  an  enemy 
to  give  us  battle,  and  serve  as  a  vent  for  our  growing  enthu- 
siasm. The  next  Sunday  preceding  the  organization  of  our 
regiment,  we  started  out  over  the  surrounding  country  in  quest 
of  trouble,  which  we  were  not  long  in  finding,  as  we  soon  ran 
across  a  nest  of  yellow  jackets.  These  we  proceeded  to  ex- 
terminate, in  which  we  were  successful  after  a  short  but  de- 
structive battle.  We  suffered  considerably  in  wounded  but 
lost  none  of  our  soldiers.  This  engagement  we  called  the 
capture  of  fort  "Hell."  For  some  time  thereafter  we  made 
regular  raids  into  the  surrounding  country  in  quest  of  an 
enemy.  We  were  eventually  successful  in  our  quest,  as  in 
quick  order  we  ran  across  and  captured  a  company  of  bumble 
bees.  This  we  called  the  "Battle  of  the  Wilderness."  Vic- 
tory over  a  nest  of  hornets  we  called  the  capture  of  "Fort 
Sumter."  A  large  nest  of  wasps  gave  us  perhaps  the  hardest 


DEADWOOD  DICK  15 

fight  of  our  campaigning.  This  we  ran  across  in  the  fields  not 
far  from  home.  There  was  an  unusually  large  number  of 
them,  and  as  is  usually  the  case  with  these  insects,  they  proved 
very  ferocious.  Nothing  loth,  however,  we  attacked  with 
cheers,  only  to  be  driven  back  time  and  again  and  finally  we 
were  compelled  to  make  a  very  undignified  retreat,  at  full 
speed  in  the  direction  of  home.  Not  to  be  beaten,  however,  we 
secured  reinforcements  and  more  ammunition,  in  the  shape  of 
old  rags,  brooms  and  so  forth,  and  returned  to  the  charge,  and 
although  we  were  driven  back  several  times  we  stayed  until  we 
won  out,  and  the  last  insect  lay  a  quivering  mass  on  the  ground. 
There  was  not  one  among  us,  not  wounded  in  some  manner, 
as  for  myself  I  had  enough  of  it.  My  nose  looked  like  a 
dutch  slipper,  and  it  was  several  days  before  my  eyes  were 
able  to  perform  the  duties  for  which  they  were  made.  How- 
ever, the  Union  forces  were  victorious  and  we  were  happy. 
Our  masters  told  us  if  the  soldiers  caught  us,  they  would  hang 
us  all,  which  had  the  effect  of  keeping  most  of  us  close  around 
home.  Master  had  gone  to  join  Lee's  forces,  taking  with  him 
father,  who  was  engaged  in  building  forts,  which  work  kept 
him  with  the  Confederate  army  until  General  Grant  arrived 
in  the  country,  when  he  was  allowed  to  come  home.  From 
then  on  Union  soldiers  passed  the  neighborhood  most  every 
day  on  their  way  south,  to  join  the  fighting  regiments. 

We  soon  found  out  they  would  not  hurt  us  and  they  were 
the  wonderment  and  pride  of  our  youthful  minds.  They  would 
take  everything  they  could  find  to  eat  for  themselves  and 
horses,  leaving  the  plantation  stripped  clean  of  provisions  and 
food,  which  entailed  considerable  misery  and  hardships  on 
those  left  at  home,  especially  the  colored  people'  who  were  not 
used  to  such  a  state  of  affairs,  and  were  not  accustomed  to 
providing  for  their  own  wants.  Finally  Lee  surrendered  and 
master  returned  home.  But  in  common  with  other  masters 
of  those  days  he  did  not  tell  us  we  were  free.  And  instead 
of  letting  us  go  he  made  us  work  for  him  the  same  as  before, 
but  in  all  other  respects  he  was  kind.  He  moved  our  log  cabin 
on  a  piece  of  ground  on  a  hill  owned  by  him,  and  in  most  re- 
spects things  went  on  the  same  as  before  the  war.  It  wa? 


DEADWOOD  DICK  17 

quite  a  while  after  this  that  we  found  out  we  were  free  and 
good  news,  like  bad  news,  sometimes  travels  fast.  It  was  not 
long  before  all  the  slaves  in  the  surrounding  country  were 
celebrating  their  freedom.  And  "Massa  Lincoln"  was  the 
hero  of  us  all. 

While  a  great  many  slaves  rejoiced  at  the  altered  state 
of  affairs;  still  many  were  content  to  remain  as  before,  and 
work  for  their  old  masters  in  return  for  their  keep.  My  father, 
however,  decided  to  start  out  for  himself,  to  that  end  he  rent- 
ed twenty  acres  of  land,  including  that  on  which  our  cabin 
stood,  from  our  late  master. 

We  were  at  this  time  in  a  most  destitute  condition,  and 
father  had  a  very  hard  time  to  get  a  start,  without  food  or 
money  and  almost  naked,  we  existed  for  a  time  on  the  only 
food  procurable,  bran  and  cracklins.  The  limited  supply  of 
provisions  made  the  culinary  duties  most  simple,  much  to 
the  disgust  of  mother,  who  was  one  of  the  best  cooks  in  the 
country,  but  beggars  cannot  be  choosers,  and  she  very  cheer- 
fully proceeded  to  make  the  best  of  what  we  had.  She  would 
make  a  great  fire  in  the  large  fire  place  in  the  cabin.  The  fire 
when  hot  enough,  was  raked  from  the  hearth  and  a  small 
place  cleaned  away,  in  the  center  of  this  clean  space,  mother 
would  lay  a  cabbage  leaf,  on  which  she  would  pour  some  batter 
made  from  bran  and  water  or  buttermilk  and  a  little  salt.  Then 
on  top  another  cabbage  leaf  was  laid  and  hot  coals  raked  over 
the  whole,  and  in  a  short  time  it  would  be  baked  nicely.  This 
we  called  ash  cake. 

This,  with  occasional  cracklins  made  up  our  entire  bill 
of  fare  for  many  months.  Father  would  make  brooms  and 
mats  from  straw  and  chair  bottoms  from  cane  and  reeds,  in 
which  my  brother  and  I  would  help  him,  after  he  had  taught 
us  how.  During  the  week  a  large  load  was  made  and  Friday 
night  father  would  take  the  load  on  his  shoulders  and  walk 
to  town,  a  dozen  miles,  where  he  would  sell  them  and  bring 
seed  and  food  home.  When  the  weather  would  permit  we 
worked  in  the  field,  preparing  for  our  first  crop. 

The  twenty  acres,  being  mostly  uncultivated,  had  to  be 


i8  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

cleared,  plowed  and  thoroughly  harrowed.  Our  first  crop  con- 
sisted of  corn,  tobacco  and  a  few  vegetables. 

Father  would  lay  off  the  corn  rows.  Jordan  and  I  would 
drop  the  corn  while  father  came  behind  and  covered  the  rows. 

In  this  manner  we  soon  had  in  a  considerable  crop  of 
corn  and  some  vegetables  for  our  own  use.  During  the  winter 
which  was  sometimes  severe,  during  which  time  nothing,  of 
course,  could  be  done  in  the  farming  line,  and  when  not  other- 
wise engaged,  we  started  to  try  and  learn  ourselves  something 
in  the  educational  line.  Father  could  read  a  little,  and  he 
helped  us  all  with  our  A  B  Cs,  but  it  is  hard  work  learning 
to  read  and  write  without  a  teacher,  and  there  was  no  school 
a  black  child  could  attend  at  that  time.  However,  we  managed 
to  make  some  headway,  then  spring  came  and  with  it  the 
routine  of  farm  work.  Father  was  a  man  of  strong  determina- 
tion, not  easily  discouraged,  and  always  pushing  forward  and 
upward,  quick  to,  learn  things  and  slow  to  forget  them,  a 
keen  observer  and  a  loving  husband  and  father.  Had  he  lived 
this  history  would  not  have  been  written. 


CHAPTER  IIL 

RAISING  TOBACCO,  OUR  FIRST  YEAR  OF  FREEDOM. 
MORE  PRIVATIONS.  FATHER  DIES.  IT  NEVER 
RAINS— BUT  IT  POURS.  I  BECOME  THE  HEAD  OF 
THE  FAMILY  AND  START  TO  WORK  AT  $1.50  PER 
MONTH. 

As  soon  as  the  corn  crop  was  in  the  ground  we  com- 
menced to  plant  tobacco.  Before  the  seed  was  sown,  it  was 
necessary  to  gather  large  piles  of  brush  and  wood  and  burn 
it  to  ashes  on  the  ground  to  destroy  the  seeds  of  the  weeds. 
The  ground  was  then  spaded  and  raked  thoroughly,  and  the 
seed  sown.  After  it  had  come  up  and  got  a  fair  start,  it  was 
transplanted  in  rows  about  three  feet  apart.  When  the  plants 
become  large  enough  it  is  necessary  to  pull  the  suckers  off, 
also  the  worms  off  the  leaves.  This  task  fell  upon  Jordan  and 
myself. 

In  picking  the  worms  off  the  plants  it  is  necessary  to 
use  the  greatest  care  that  the  plants  are  not  damaged,  but 
Jordan  and  I  were  afraid  to  touch  the  worms  with  our  fingers, 
so  we  took  sticks  and  knocked  them  off,  also  a  few  leaves 
with  each  worm.  This  fact  called  forth  some  rather  strong 
language  from  father,  who  said  we  were  doing  more  harm 
than  good.  But  our  aversion  to  the  worms  was  so  strong 
that  we  took  several  thrashings  before  we  could  bring  our- 
selves to  use  our  fingers  instead  of  a  stick.  When  the  tobacco 
was  ripe  there  would  be  yellow  spots  on  the  leaves.  It  was 
then  cut,  let  lie  for  one  day,  then  hung  on  a  scaffold  to  be 
sun  cured.  It  was  allowed  to  remain  on  the  scaffold  for  perhaps 
a  week,  then  it  was  hung  up  in  the  barn  to  be  smoked,  after 
which  it  was  made  into  a  big  bulk  and  a  weight  placed  on  it 
to  press  it  out,  then  it  was  stripped,  and  put  into  hands  and 
then  it  was  ready  for  the  market.  Our  crop  the  first  year  was 
not  large  and  the  most  of  it  went  to  pay  the  rent  and  the  fol- 
lowing winter  proved  a  hard  one,  and  entailed  considerable 


DEADWOOD  DICK  21 

privation  and  suffering  among  the  many  ex-slaves,  who  had 
so  recently  been  thrown  on  their  own  resources,  without 
money  or  clothing  or  food,  and  only  those  who  have  had  the 
experience  can  appreciate  the  condition  of  things  or  rather 
lack  of  things,  at  the  close  of  the  war,  and  these  conditions 
did  not  only  affect  the  ex-slaves  and  colored  people,  but  cov- 
ered the  entire  south,  and  many  former  well-to-do  slave  own- 
ers now  found  themselves  without  a  penny  they  could  call 
their  own,  having  been  stripped  of  everything  and  compelled 
to  start  all  over  again.  Surely  "war  is  hell" — 'but  slavery  is 
worse.  Early  in  the  spring  father  went  to  work  for  a  neigh- 
boring planter  a  couple  of  weeks  in  order  to  get  his  plows  and 
horses  again  to  plow  his  land.  A  somewhat  larger  crop  was 
put  in  this  year,  but  unfortunately  for  us  when  everything 
was  planted  father  took  sick  and  died  shortly  after.  This 
was  a  stunning  loss  to  us  just  at  a  time  when  we  most  needed 
a  father  and  husband's  help,  counsel  and  protection.  But  we 
did  not  lose  courage  for  long. 

The  crop  must  be  looked  after  and  the  coming  winter  pro- 
vided against.  My  sister  Sally  had  been  married  about  three 
years  at  this  time  and  was  with  her  husband  and  two  little 
girls  on  a  small  farm  some  distance  away,  which  my  brother- 
in-law  rented.  That  left,  mother,  Jordan  and  I  to  look  after 
things.  Although  I  was  the  youngest,  I  was  the  most  cour- 
ageous, always  leading  in  mischief,  play  and  work.  So  I  now 
took  the  leadership,  and  became  the  head  of  the  family.  Things 
were  beginning  to  take  on  a  more  hopeful  look,  when  my 
brother-in-law  died,  leaving  my  sister  sick  with  two  small 
children  and  in  about  the  same  circumstances  as  ourselves. 
Everything,  indeed,  looked  hopeless  now,  as  our  late  master 
and  his  brother  had  left  the  old  place  and  gone  north.  So 
remembering  I  was  the  only  man  on  the  place  now,  though 
only  fifteen  years  old,  I  said  to  mother  and  sister  who  were 
weeping  bitterly,  "brace  up,  and  don't  lose  your  heads.  1 
will  look  after  you  all."  I  said  this  with  a  bravado  I  was  far 
from  feeling,  but  I  could  not  see  the  use  of  weeping  now  there 
was  work  to  be  done,  if  we  were  to  keep  from  starving  the  com- 
ing winter.  We  all  turned  in  to  help  one  another  and  in  this 


DEADWOOD  DICK  23 

manner.  The  crop  was  gathered  and  we  were  in  fairly  good 
condition  for  the  coming  winter,  but  the  work  was  too  much 
for  Sally  who  lingered  through  the  winter  and  early  in  the 
spring  we  laid  her  beside  her  father  and  husband,  and  her  two 
little  orphans  were  left  to  us.  It  now  became  very  apparent 
to  me  that  something  must  be  done,  because  the  crop  raised 
the  year  before  was  barely  enough  to  last  us  through  the 
winter  and  we  would  soon  be  in  actual  need  again.  We  needed 
clothing,  especially  the  little  girls  of  my  sister,  and  we  had 
no  money  to  buy  seed  for  this  season's  crop  or  food  to  last  us 
out.  So  I  concluded  to  go  to  work  for  some  one  if  I  could  find 
anything  to  do.  With  that  resolve,  I  put  on  my  best  rags 
and  to  mother's  inquiry  as  to  where  I  was  going  I  told  her 
I  did  not  know  myself.  It  fairly  made  my  heart  ache  to  see 
my  little  nieces  going  around  almost  naked,  bare  footed,  and 
have  them  always  asking  for  things  I  was  powerless  to  give 
them.  I  determined  to  go  from  place  to  place  until  I  secured 
employment  of  some  kind  that  would  in  a  measure,  permit  me 
to  feed,  and  as  far  as  I  was  able,  clothe  mother  and  the  chil- 
dren, now  dependent  on  me. 

The  fact  that  I  was  now  free,  gave  me  new  born  courage 
to  face  the  world  and  what  the  future  might  hold  in  store  for 
me.  After  tramping  around  the  country  for  two  days,  I  finally 
secured  work  with  a  Mr.  Brooks,  about  six  miles  from  home 
at  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  a  month.  Notwithstanding  the 
smallness  of  my  prospective  wages,  I  was  happy  and  returned 
home  in  a  jubilant  frame  of  mind,  to  impart  the  news  to  moth- 
er. I  was  to  commence  the  next  morning.  Mother  said  it 
was  not  much,  but  better  than  nothing.  I  told  mother  that  I 
thought  I  could  bring  some  food  and  clothing  home  for  the 
children  before  the  month  was  out.  The  little  ones  hearing  this, 
were  overjoyed  and  looked  on  me  as  a  rich  man  indeed.  Jor- 
dan was  to  remain  at  home  and  attend  to  what  little  there  was 
to  do,  and  the  next  day  I  started  work  for  Mr.  Brooks.  In 
less  than  a  week  I  made  my  first  visit  home,  taking  with  me 
some  potatoes,  bacon,  cornmeal,  and  some  molasses,  which 
I  had  rustled  in  various  ways.  I  also  had  a  bundle  of  old 


24  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

clothing  given  to  me  by  the  neighbors,  which  mother  could 
make  over  for  the  children,  and  to  say  the  children  were  happy 
is  but  a  mild  expression. 

For  the  second  month  I  received  a  raise  of  fifty  cents,  and 
the  third  month  of  my  employment,  so  good  did  I  work,  that 
I  received  three  dollars.  With  so  many  at  home  to  provide  for, 
my  wages  did  not  last  long,  but  out  of  my  three  dollars  I 
bought  each  of  the  children  a  book.  The  rest  went  for  pro- 
visions and  clothing.  One  day  while  passing  the  store  of 
Mr.  Graves,  near  our  home  I  saw  a  checked  sunbonnet  and  a 
red  calico  dress  which  struck  my  fancy  as  just  what  I  wanted 
for  mother.  On  asking  the  price  Mr.  Graves  told  me  I  could 
have  the  sunbonnet  for  twenty-five  cents  and  the  dress  for 
four  bits.  That  seemed  to  be  within  my  means,  and  quite 
reasonable.  I  asked  him  to  keep  them  for  me  until  I  got  my 
wages  at  the  end  of  the  month.  This  Mr.  Graves  promised 
to  do  if  I  would  pay  him  something  down.  I  only  had  fifteen 
cents  of  which  I  paid  five  cents  on  the  bonnet  and  ten  cents 
on  the  dress  and  went  on  my  way,  filled  with  happy  thoughts 
as  the  result  of  my  bargain.  I  resolved  to  be  very  saving  this 
month  and  I  became  very  impatient  for  my  month  to  end  and 
was  continually  asking  Mr.  Brooks  if  my  month  was  not  soon 
over.  He  would  laugh  and  say  "yes>  soon."  But  it  seemed 
to  me  that  was  the  longest  month  I  ever  knew.  When  at  last 
the  month  was  over  he  gave  me  fifty  cents,  claiming  I  had 
drawn  my  wages  during  the  month.  I  knew  that  was  not 
so.  I  also  knew  I  had  a  balance  coming  to  me  and  told  him 
so.  But  he  denied  it  and  the  result  was  that  we  had  a  fight. 
I  hit  him  in  the  head  with  a  rock  and  nearly  killed  him  after 
which  I  felt  better.  Then  going  to  Mr.  Graves  the  store- 
keeper, I  told  him  the  whole  trouble.  He  expressed  sympathy 
for  me  and  said  to  give  him  the  fifty  cents  and  take  the  bonnet 
and  dress,  and  we  will  call  it  square.  And  you  can  imagine 
my  feelings  as  I  took  the  things  home  to  mother,  and  she  was 
more  pleased  with  them  than  any  queen  with  her  silks  and 
satins.  There  being  plenty  of  work  to  do  at  home,  I  did  not 


DEADWOOD  DICK  25 

again  look  for  other  work.  The  only  thing  that  worried  me 
was  that  the  little  ones  were  still  without  shoes,  but  on  my 
promise  to  soon  get  them  some  they  were  satisfied.  It  was  here 
I  got  my  first  lessons  in  self-dependence  and  life's  struggles.  I 
learned  true  usefulness  and  acquired  the  habit  of  helping 
others  which  I  carried  with  me  all  through  my  after  life  and 
that  trait  perhaps  more  than  any  other  endeared  me  to  my 
companions  on  the  range  and  all  with  whom  I  have  had  deal- 
ings. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BOYHOOD  SPORTS.  MORE  DEVILMENT.  THE 
ROCK  BATTLES.  I  HUNT  RABBITS  IN  MY  SHIRT 
TAIL.  MY  FIRST  EXPERIENCE  IN  ROUGH  RID- 
ING. A  QUESTION  OF  BREAKING  THE  HORSE  OR 
BREAKING  MY  NECK. 

In  those  days  it  was  more  the  custom,  than  now,  to  work 
six  days  and  rest  on  the  seventh,  accordingly  us  boys  always 
had  our  Sundays  free.  And  we  never  lost  an  opportunity  to 
put  in  motion  some  devilment  to  make  the  time  pass  in  what 
we  thought  was  the  most  pleasant  way.  Anything  to  have  a 
great  time.  Our  chief  means  of  having  fun  for  a  while  was 
the  rock  battles.  We  boys  of  the  entire  neighborhood  would 
get  together,  then  divide  in  equal  numbers  on  a  side,  then 
after  gathering  all  the  available  rocks  from  the  landscape, 
we  would  proceed  to  have  a  pitched  battle,  throwing  the  rocks 
at  each  other  as  hard  as  we  could,  and  with  a  grim  intent  to 
commit  battery.  As  a  rational  consequence  the  bravest  would 
force  the  weaker  side  to  retreat.  It  then  became  a  question 
of  running  or  being  rocked  to  death.  After  these  battles 
we  were  all  usually  in  very  bad  condition,  having  received 
very  hard  knocks  on  sundry  and  various  parts  of  our  anatomy, 
but  for  all  that  we  have  never  bore  malice  toward  each  other. 
We  were  careful  to  keep  these  escapades  from  the  knowledge 
of  our  elders.  In  this  way  we  were  quite  successful  until  one 
time  we  had  a  boy  nearly  killed,  then  we  thought  the  old 
folks  would  whip  us  all  to  death.  This  incident  ended  the 
rock  battles.  But  we  soon  had  something  else  doing  to  furnish 
ourselves  fun  and  excitement. 

About  this  time  we  planned  a  rabbit  hunt,  after  the  small 
cotton  tail  rabbits,  which  were  plentiful  in  the  surrounding 
country.  Getting  all  the  boys  together  and  securing  the  track 
hounds  of  the  neighborhood  we  were  off.  It  was  not  long 
before  the  dogs  caught  track  of  something  and  away  they  went 


28  LIFE  AND  AD-VENTURES  OF 

with  all  the  boys  behind.  Now  at  that  time  it  was  not  cus- 
tomary for  us  boys  of  the  plantation  to  wear  shoes  and  pants, 
the  principal  reason  being  that  we  did  not  have  either  shoes 
or  pants  to  wear.  So  you  can  perhaps  imagine  the  sight  present- 
ed by  a  score  or  more  of  boys  of  all  ages  chasing  behind  the 
hounds,  with  our  shirt  tails  flying  through  bushes,  thorns 
and  brambles,  up  hill  and  down  hill,  many  of  us  bleeding  like 
stabbed  pigs,  but  we  were  too  much  interested  to  pay  any  at- 
tention to  a  little  blood.  We  wanted  the  rabbits,  and  every- 
thing else  was  of  secondary  importance,  even  the  calls  of  the 
younger  boys  who  got  tired  and  fell  behind.  Onward  we  went 
over  rocks,  through  fields,  over  fences,  until  we  could  hear 
the  dogs  no  more,  then  tired  out  we  had  to  stop.  I  told  the 
boys  to  sit  down,  that  I  thought  the  dogs  would  come  this 
-way  again.  It  was  not  long  before  I  thought  I  heard  some- 
thing and  told  the  boys  to  hush  and  have  their  rocks  ready  to 
kill  the  rabbit.  It  never  occurred  to  me  that  it  would  be  any- 
thing but  a  rabbit.  The  bay  of  the  dogs  came  nearer,  then 
over  the  fence  jumped  a  big  red  fox  right  in  front  of  me.  He 
stopped  and  we  looked  in  each  others  eyes.  It  was  hard  to  tell 
which  of  us  was  the  most  surprised,  however,  I  was  the  first 
to  run  away,  and  run  I  did.  I  ran  like  a  black  tailed  deer. 
Many  times  I  thought  I  felt  him  nibble  at  my  shirt  tails,  and 
his  eyes  grew  in  my  imagination  as  large  as  wagon  wheels  and 
Mr.  Fox,  himself,  seemed  to  grow  as  big  as  an  elephant.  When 
at  last  I  dropped  from  sheer  exhaustion  and  could  summon 
courage  to  look  behind  me,  I  could  see  nothing.  It  was  then  I 
realized  I  was  not.  so  game  as  I  thought  I  was  and  the  know- 
ledge was  not  pleasant  by  any  means.  Not  far  from  our  house 
there  was  a  horse  ranch,  owned  by  a  Mr.  Williams.  He  had 
two  sons  about  my  own  age  and  I  would  often  go  and  see 
them  on  Sundays.  As  I  was  very  fond  of  riding  horses  most 
of  the  horses  on  the  ranch  were  very  wild.  So  one  day  the 
oldest  boy  and  I  made  a  plan  to  break  the  young  colts.  The 
only  chance  we  had  of  doing  so  was  on  Sunday,  when  the 
family  went  to  church,  as  we  did  not  think  Mr.  Williams 
would  approve  of  our  plan.  Mr.  Williams'  boy  said  he  would 
give  me  ten  cents  for  every  colt  I  broke.  That  was  perfectly 


i     i 


03 


30  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

satisfactory  to  me.  The  money  was  made  of  shin  plaster 
those  days  (paper).  The  next  Sunday  I  started  to  break  hors- 
es. We  did  not  dare  to  put  the  bridle  on  them  as  we  were 
afraid  the  boss  might  surprise  us  and  we  would  not  be  quick 
enough  to  get  it  off.  Our  mode  of  procedure  was  to  drive 
one  at  a  time  in  the  barn,  get  it  in  a  stall,  then  after  much  diffi- 
culty I  would  manage  to  get  on  its  back.  Then  the  door  was 
opened  and  the  pole  removed  and  the  horse  liberated  with  me 
on  its  back,  then  the  fun  would  commence.  The  colt  would 
run,  jump,  kick  and  pitch  around  the  barn  yard  in  his  efforts  to 
throw  me  off.  But  he  might  as  well  tried  to  jump  out  of 
his  skin  because  I  held  on  to  his  mane  and  stuck  to  him  like 
a  leech.  The  colt  would  usually  keep  up  his  bucking  until  he 
could  buck  no  more,  and  then  I  would  get  my  ten  cents.  Ten 
cents  is  a  small  amount  of  money  these  days,  but  in  those  days 
that  amount  was  worth  more  to  me  than  ten  dollars  now. 

Well,  we  went  on  Sunday  after  Sunday  and  I  broke  about 
a  dozen  colts  in  this  way,  and  also  managed  to  do  it  without 
the  boss  discovering  the  favor  I  was  undoubtedly  doing 
him,  in  breaking  all  his  wild  horses.  Only  his  boys  were  aware 
of  the  doings  and  they  paid  me.  So  I  had  no  scruples  about 
what  I  was  doing,  especially  as  it  afforded  me  great  fun.  Final- 
ly the  boys  wanted  me  to  break  a  big  handsome  black  horse 
called  Black  Highwayman.  Knowing  the  horse's  uncertain 
temper  and  wild  disposition  and  taking  into  consideration  its 
size,  I  refused  to  break  him  for  ten  cents,  as  the  fact  was  I 
was  rather  scared  of  him.  After  considerable  bargaining,  in 
which  I  held  out  for  fifty  cents,  we  finally  compromised  on 
twenty-five  cents.  But  I  can  assure  you  it  was  more  for  the 
money  than  the  fun  of  the  thing,  that  I  finally  consented  to 
ride  him.  With  great  difficulty  we  managed  to  get  him  in  a 
stall  as  we  did  the  others,  but  I  no  sooner  landed  on  his  back 
than  he  jumped  in  the  manger  with  me  hanging  to  his  mane. 
Finally  the  door  was  opened  and  the  pole  removed  and  out 
of  the  barn  we  shot  like  a  black  cloud,  around  the  yard  we 
flew,  then  over  the  garden  fence.  At  this  juncture  the  track 
hounds  became  interested  and  promptly  followed  us.  Over  the 
fields  we  went,  the  horse  clearing  the  highest  fences  and 


ffl 


32  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

other  obstacles  in  his  way  with  the  greatest  ease.  My  seat 
on  his  back  was  not  the  most  comfortable  place  in  the  world, 
but  as  the  horse  did  not  evince  any  disposition  to  stop  and 
let  me  get  off,  I  concluded  to  remain  where  I  was.  All  the  dogs 
of  the  neighborhood  were  fast  joining  in  the  race  and  I  had 
quite  a  respectable  following.  After  running  about  two  miles 
we  cleared  a  fence  into  a  pasture  where  there  was  a  large 
number  of  other  horses  and  young  colts,  who  promptly  stam- 
peded as  we  joined  them,  Highwayman  taking  the  lead  with 
me  on  his  back,  looking  very  much  like  a  toad.  And  all  the 
dogs  in  the  country  strung  out  in  the  rear.  Naturally  we 
formed  a  spectacle  that  could  not  fail  to  attract  the  attention 
of  the  neighbors,  who  soon  as  possible  mounted  horses  and 
started  in  pursuit  and  vainly  tried  to  catch  my  black  mount 
but  could  get  nowhere  near  him,  while  I  without  bridle  or 
anything  to  control  him  could  do  nothing  but  let  him  run 
as  all  the  other  horses  bunched  around  us  and  the  dogs  kept 
up  a  continual  din.  I  simply  held  on  and  let  him  go.  It 
was  a  question  of  breaking  the  horse  or  breaking  my  neck. 
We  went  over  everything,  through  everything,  until  finally 
the  killing  pace  told  and  Black  Highwayman  fell,  a  thoroughly 
exhausted  and  completely  conquered  and  well  broken  horse. 
As  for  myself,  I  was  none  the  worse  for  my  exciting  ride. 
But  on  looking  for  my  twenty-five  cents,  I  found  it  gone.  The 
boys  had  paid  me  in  advance,  as  I  insisted,  and  I  had  tied  the 
money  up  in  a  corner  of  my  shirt,  tail  and  during  my  wild 
iide  it  had  come  untied  and  worked  out.  This  was  a  great 
misfortune  to  me  and  for  a  while  I  was  inconsolable.  I  asked 
the  boys  if  they  would  make  it  right,  but  no,  they  had  paid 
me  once  and  they  refused  to  give  me  another  quarter.  This 
riled  me  considerable  and  I  told  them  all  right,  to  come  again 
when  they  wanted  a  horse  broken.  That  settled  us  and  the 
horse  breaking.  The  experiences  I  gained  in  riding  during 
these  times,  often  stood  me  in  good  stead  in  after  years  dur- 
ing my  wild  life  on  the  western  plains.  Mr.  Williams  of 
course,  heard  of  my  last  wild  ride,  but.  instead  of  being  angry, 
he  seemed  to  see  the  funny  side  of  it,  which  I  could  not. 

The  spectators  wondered  how  in  the  world  I  ever  escaped 
a  broken  neck  and  I  have  often  wondered  how  I  escaped  in 
after  years  from  situations  that  seemed  to  be  sure  death.  But 
escape  I  did  and  am  now  hale  and  hearty,  without  pain,  with 
muscles  like  iron  and  able  at  any  time  to  run  a  hundred  yards 
in  eleven  seconds  or  jump  a  six  foot  fence. 


CHAPTER  V. 

HOME  LIFE.  PICKING  BERRIES.  THE  PIGS  COM- 
MIT LARCENY.  NUTTING.  WE  GO  TO  MARKET. 
MY  FIRST  DESIRE  TO  SEE  THE  WORLD.  I  WIN  A 
HORSE  IN  A  RAFFLE.  THE  LAST  OF  HOME. 

I  now  settled  down  to  the  work  around  the  farm  and  the 
problem  of  making  a  living  for  those  dependent  on  me.  The 
crop  was  all  in  and  after  attending  to  such  work  around  home 
as  had  to  be  done,  we  found  a  source  of  revenue  in  gather- 
ing berries  for  market.  Large  quantities  of  black  berries  and 
others  grew  wild  in  the  woods  near  by.  And  they  always 
found  a  ready  market.  With  small  pails  and  a  big  basket 
mother  and  I  would  start  out  after  the  work  at  home  was 
done.  Reaching  the  woods  we  would  sit  under  the  bushes 
and  fill  the  pails,  then  empty  them  into  the  big  basket  until 
that  was  full  which  usually  comprised  our  day's  work. 

One  day,  wishing  to  secure  a  large  quantity  of  berries  for 
market,  we  went  early  in  the  morning  and  on  reaching  the 
woods  we  placed  the  big  basket  in  what  we  thought  a  safe 
place,  and  after  some  hours  of  industrious  work,  the  big  bas- 
ket was  full  of  nice  ripe  blackberries.  We  then  proceeded  to 
fill  our  pails  again  which  would  be  sufficient  for  the  day.  This 
accomplished,  we  prepared  to  start  for  home.  But  when 
mother  went  to  take  the  big  basket  it  was  empty. 

The  stray  pigs  had  found  them  and  committed  larceny. 
Mother  felt  so  bad  she  cried.  We  had  put  in  a  hard  day's 
work  for  nothing.  It  had  been  our  intention  to  take  them 
to  town  on  the  morrow  and  buy  something  for  Sunday,  but 
now  the  fruit  of  our  labor  was  gone  and  the  disappointment 
was  great.  I  looked  at  mother,  then  at  the  empty  basket  and 
did  not  know  for  which  to  feel  most  sorry.  So  I  said,  "Well, 
there  is  no  use  grieving  over  spilt  milk.  If  we  had  not  had 
them  we  could  not  have  lost  them,  and  there  are  plenty  more 
of  the  same  kind  for  the  pithing."  Mother  turned  toward  me, 


DEADWOOD  DICK  35 

and  said,  with  a  look  I  will  always  remember,  "My  boy,  what- 
ever happens,  you  never  get  discouraged."  I  did  not  see  the  use 
of  losing  courage  and  I  think  the  only  time  I  weakened  was 
when  father  died,  as  he  could  not  be  replaced. 

We  went  on  talking  and  picking  berries,  and  before  we 
knew  it  the  basket  was  full  again  and  the  pails.  It  was  now 
night  so  mother  took  the  bushel  basket  on  her  head  and  I  took 
the  pails  and  we  were  soon  home.  That  night  mother  took 
my  clothing,  as  was  customary,  and  washed  and  pressed  it 
so  I  would  look  nice  and  clean  to  go  to  market  the  next  day. 
As  I  only  had  one  outfit  of  clothes  I  had  necessarily  to  go 
without  them  during  the  washing  process,  however,  mother 
always  kept  me  clean,  at  considerable  labor  on  her  part.  The 
next  morning,  early,  mother  and  I  started  for  town,  five  miles 
distant,  walking  along  the  hot,  dusty  road,  each  of  us  with  a 
basket  of  berries  on  our  heads  and  bunches  of  cucumbers  in 
our  hands,  mother  having  much  the  larger  load,  but  she 
was  a  very  strong  woman.  As  it  chanced  we  had  a  lucky  day 
and  sold  our  stock  of  berries  and  cucumbers  in  a  short  time. 
We  then  bought  what  we  needed  and  had  a  little  money  left 
but  for  all  that,  I  was  not  quite  satisfied.  I  wanted  mother 
to  buy  something  that  was  not  necessary,  but  she  said,  "My 
son,  if  we  don't  save  a  few  cents  now  what  will  it  be  later  on  ? 
We  will  have  to  go  to  the  poorhouse."  I  said,  "Dear  mother  if 
there  is  a  house  poorer  than  ours  I  don't  want  to  see  it."  I 
will  always  remember  the  sight  of  mother's  face  as  she  turned 
to  me,  the  tears  running  down  her  cheeks  as  she  answered, 
''Yes,  my  son,  you  are  right  there  are  few  houses  poorer  than 
ours  now."  The  same  year  when  fall  came  mother  and  I 
thought  we  had  the  bull  by  the  horns.  There  were  several 
fine  groves  of  walnut,  hickory  nut,  chestnut  and  shirly  bark 
nut  trees  in  the  woods  and  I  made  a  sleigh  on  which  I  nailed 
a  big  box.  I  tied  a  rope  for  a  tongue  and  with  a  stick  on  the 
end,  mother  and  I  working  as  a  sort  of  double  feam  would 
draw  through  the  woods  among  the  trees  gathering  the  differ- 
ent kinds  of  nuts  and  as  the  box  was  big,  large  quantities 
could  be  gathered  in  this  manner.  During  the  nut  season  we 
worked  every  day  from  morning  to  night,  gathering  large 


fl 


DEADWOOD  DICK  37 

quantities  of  nuts  for  which  we  always  found  a  ready  market. 
As  we  worked  we  talked  of  what  we  would  buy  with  the  money 
and  making  plans  for  the  future.  The  nuts  we  sold  usually 
brought  us :  chestnuts  one  dollar  a  bushel ;  walnuts  fifty  cents, 
and  hickory  nuts  fifty  cents  a  bushel.  This  money  added  Lo 
the  proceeds  of  the  crop  netted  us  quite  a  nice  sum  and  made 
our  condition  much  better,  but  I  assure  you,  dear  readers,  it 
took  hard  work  from  morning  to  night  to  make  both  ends  meet 
but  with  the  help  of  God  we  made  them  meet,  and  during 
this  time  we  were  always  healthy  and  the  knowledge  that  we 
were  free  and  working  for  ourselves  gave  us  courage  to  con- 
tinue the  struggle.  It  was  about  this  time  that  I  commenced 
thinking  about  going  west. 

I  wanted  to  see  more  of  the  world  and  as  I  began  to  realize 
there  was  so  much  more  of  the  world  than  what  I  had  seen, 
the  desire  to  go  grew  on  me  from  day  to  day.  It  was  hard  to 
think  of  leaving  mother  and  the  children,  but  freedom  is  sweet 
and  I  wanted  to  make  more  of  the  opportunity  and  my  life 
than  I  could  see  possible  around  home.  Besides  I  suppose, 
I  was  a  little  selfish  as  mortals  are  prone  to  be.  Finally  the 
desire  to  go  out  in  the  world  grew  so  strong  that  I  mentioned 
it  to  mother,  but  she  did  not  give  me  much  encouragement, 
and  I  don't  think  she  thought  I  had  the  courage  to  go,  and  be- 
sides I  had  neither  clothing  or  money  and  to  tell  the  truth,  the 
outlook  was  discouraging  even  to  me,  but  I  continued  to  look 
for  an  opportunity  which  happened  in  a  very  unexpected  man- 
ner shortly  after.  One  day  a  man  by  the  name  of  Johnson  an- 
nounced that  he  would  raffle  a  fine  beautiful  horse  at  fifty  cents 
a  chance.  I  heard  of  it  at  once,  but  had  no  money  with  which 
to  get  a  chance.  However,  when  there's  a  will  there's  a  way, 
so  I  went  to  the  barn  and  caught  two  chickens  which  I  sold 
for  fifty  cents  and  at  once  got  a  chance.  My  chance  won  the 
horse.  Mr.  Johnson  said  he  would  give  me  fifty  dollars  for 
the  horse  and  as  I  needed  the  money  more  than  the  horse  I 
sold  the  horse  back.  Mr.  Johnson  at  once  raffled  him  off  again 
and  again  I  won  the  horse,  which  I  again  sold  for  fifty  dollars. 
With  nearly  a  hundred  dollars  I  went  home  and  told  mother 
of  what  I  had  done  and  gave  her  half  of  the  money,  telling 


DEADWOOD  DICK  39 

her  I  would  take  the  other  half  and  go  out  in  the  world  and 
try  and  better  my  condition.  I  then  went  to  town  and  bought 
some  underwear  and  other  needful  articles,  intending  to  leave 
at  once,  but  mother  pleaded  with  me  so  hard  to  stay  home, 
that  I  finally  consented  to  remain  one  more  month,  but  at  the 
end  of  that  time  she  pleaded  for  one  more  and  I  could  not  re- 
fuse her.  During  this  time  my  uncle  came  to  live  with  us  and 
I  asked  him  to  take  my  place  at  home.  This  he  consented 
to  do  gladly.  Things  were  going  on  fairly  well  at  home  now. 
The  farm  was  yielding  a  fair  living  and  the  children  having 
grown  much  larger  they  were  a  source  of  help  instead  of  an 
hindrance  and  now  that  my  uncle  and  my  brother  Jordan 
were  home  to  look  after  mother,  I  felt  I  could  better  leave  them 
now,  because  I  was  not  really  needed  at  home.  After  gather- 
ing what  few  things  I  wanted  to  take  with  me  and  providing 
myself  with  some  needed  clothes,  I  bade  mother  and  the  old 
home  farewell,  and  started  out  for  the  first  time  alone  in  a 
world  I  knew  very  little  about. 


CHAPTER  VL 

THE  WORLD  IS  BEFORE  ME.  I  JOIN  THE  TEXAS 
COWBOYS.  RED  RIVER  DICK.  MY  FIRST  OUT- 
FIT. MY  FIRST  INDIAN  FIGHT.  I  LEARN  TO  USE 
MY  GUN. 


It  was  on  the  tenth  day  of  February,  1869,  KaT^  left  the 
old  home,  near  Nashville,  Tennessee.  I  was  at  that  time  about 
fifteen  years  old,  and  though  while  young  in  years  the  hard 
work  and  farm  life  had  made  me  strong  and  hearty,  much 
beyond  my  years,  and  I  had  full  confidence  in  myself  as  being 
able  to  take  care  of  myself  and  making  my  way. 

I  at  once  struck  out  for  Kansas  of  which  I  had  heard 
something.  And  believing  it  was  a  good  place  in  which 
to  seek  employment.  It  was  in  the  west,  and  it  was  the 
great  west  I  wanted  to  see,  and  so  by  walking  and  occasional 
lifts  from  farmers  going  my  way  and  taking  advantage  of  every 
thing  that  promised  to  assist  me  on  my  way,  I  eventually 
brought  up  at  Dodge  City,  Kansas,  which  at  that  time  was 
a  typical  frontier  city,  with  a  great  many  saloons,  dance  halls, 
and  gambling  houses,  and  very  little  of  anything  else.  When 
I  arrived  the  town  was  full  of  cow  boys  from  the  surrounding 
ranches,  and  from  Texas  and  other  parts  of  the  west.  As 
Kansas  was  a  great  cattle  center  and  market,  the  wild  cow 
boy,  prancing  horses  of  which  I  was  very  fond,  and  the  wild 
life  generally,  all  had  their  attractions  for  me,  and  I  decided 
to  try  for  a  place  with  them.  Although  it  seemed  to  me  I 
had  met  with  a  bad  outfit,  at  least  some  of  them,  going 
around  among  them  I  watched  my  chances  to  get  to  speak  with 
them,  as  I  wanted  to  find  some  one  whom  I  thought  would  give 
me  a  civil  answer  to  the  questions  I  wanted  to  ask,  but  they  all 
seemed  too  wild  around  town,  so  the  next  day  I  went  out 
where  they  were  in  camp. 

Approaching  a  party  who  were  eating  their  breakfast,  I 
got  to  speak  with  them.    They  asked  me  to  have  some  break- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  41 

fast  with  them,  which  invitation  I  gladly  accepted.  During 
the  meal  I  got  a  chance  to  ask  them  many  questions.  They 
proved  to  be  a  Texas  outfit,  who  had  just  come  up  with  a  herd 
of  cattle  and  having  delivered  them  they  were  preparing  to 
return.  There  were  several  colored  cow  boys  among  them, 
and  good  ones  too.  After  breakfast  I  asked  the  camp  boss 
for  a  job  as  cow  boy.  He  asked  me  if  I  could  ride  a  wild  horse. 
I  said  "yes  sir."  He  said  if  you  can  I  will  give  you  a  job.  So 
he  spoke  to  one  of  the  colored  cow  boys  called  Bronko  Jim, 
and  told  him  to  go  out  and  rope  old  Good  Eye,  saddle  him 
and  put  me  on  his  back.  Bronko  Jim  gave  me  a  few  pointers 
and  told  me  to  look  out  for  the  horse  was  especially  bad  on 
pitching.  I  told  Jim  I  was  a  good  rider  and  not  afraid  of  him 
I  thought  I  had  rode  pitching  horses  before,  but  from  the 
time  I  mounted  old  Good  Eye  I  knew  I  had  not  learned  what 
pitching  was.  This  proved  the  worst  horse  to  ride  I  had  ever 
mounted  in  my  life,  but  I  stayed  with  him  and  the  cow  boys 
were  the  most  surprised  outfit  you  ever  saw,  as  they  had 
taken  me  for  a  tenderfoot,  pure  and  simple.  After  the  horse 
got  tired  and  I  dismounted  the  boss  said  he  would  give  me  a 
job  and  pay  me  $30.00  per  month  and  more  later  on.  He  asked 
what  my  name  was  and  I  answered  Nat  Love,  he  said  to  the 
boys  we  will  call  him  Red  River  Dick.  I  went  by  this  name 
for  a  long  time. 

The  boss  took  me  to  the  city  and  got  my  outfit,  which 
consisted  of  a  new  saddle,  bridle  and  spurs,  chaps,  a  pair  of 
blankets  and  a  fine  45  Colt  revolver.  Now  that  the  business 
which  brought  them  to  Dodge  City  was  concluded,  prepara- 
tions were  made  to  start  out  for  the  Pan  Handle  country  in 
Texas  to  the  home  ranch.  The  outfit  of  which  I  was  now  a 
member  was  called  the  Duval  outfit,  and  their  brand  was 
known  as  the  Pig  Pen  brand.  I  worked  with  this  outfit  for 
over  three  years.  On  this  trip  there  were  only  about  fifteen  of 
us  riders,  all  excepting  myself  were  hardy,  experienced  men, 
always  ready  for  anything  that  might  turn  up,  but  they  were 
as  jolly  a  set  of  fellows  as  on  could  find  in  a  long  journey. 
There  now  being  nothing  to  keep  us  longer  in  Dodge  City,  we 
prepared  for  the  return  journey,  and  left  the  next  day  over  the 


42  LIFE  AN'D   ADVENTURES  OF 

old  Dodge  and  Sun  City  lonesome  trail,  on  a  journey  which 
was  to  prove  the  most  eventful  of  my  life  up  to  now. 

A  few  miles  out  we  encountered  some  of  the  hardest  hail 
storms  I  ever  saw,  causing  discomfort  to  man  and  beast,  but 
I  had  no  notion  of  getting  discouraged  but  I  resolved  to  be  al- 
ways ready  for  any  call  that  might  be  made  on  me,  of  what- 
ever nature  it  might  be,  and  those  with  whom  I  have  lived 
and  worked  will  tell  you  I  have  kept  that  resolve.  Not  far 
from  Dodge  City  on  our  way  home  we  encountered  a  band  of 
the  old  Victoria  tribe  of  Indians  and  had  a  sharp  fight. 

These  Indians  were  nearly  always  harrassing  travelers 
and  traders  and  the  stock  men  of  that  part  of  the  country,  and 
were  very  troublesome.  In  this  band  we  encountered  there 
were  about  a  hundred  painted  bucks  all  well  mounted.  When 
we  saw  the  Indians  they  were  coming  after  us  yelling  like 
demons.  As  we  were  not  expecting  Indians  at  this  particular 
time,  we  were  taken  somewhat  by  surprise. 

We  only  had  fifteen  men  in  our  outfit,  but  nothing  daunted 
we  stood  our  ground  and  fought  the  Indians  to  a  stand.  One 
of  the  boys  was  shot  off  his  horse  and  killed  near  me.  The 
Indians  got  his  horse,  bridle  and  saddle.  During  this  fight  we 
lost  all  but  six  of  our  horses,  our  entire  packing  outfit  and  our 
extra  saddle  horses,  which  the  Indians  stampeded,  then  round- 
ed them  up  after  the  fight  and  drove  them  off.  And  as  we 
only  had  six  horses  left  us,  we  were  unable  to  follow  them, 
although  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  we  had  made 
several  good  Indians  out  of  bad  ones. 

This  was  my  first  Indian  fight  and  likewise  the  first  In- 
dians I  had  ever  seen.  When  I  saw  them  coming  after  us  and 
heard  their  blood  curdling  yell,  I  lost  all  courage  and  thought 
my  time  had  come  to  die.  I  was  too  badly  scared  to  run,  some 
of  the  boys  told  me  to  use  my  gun  and  shoot  for  all  I  was 
worth.  Now  I  had  just  got  my  outfit  and  had  never  shot  off 
a  gun  in  my  life,  but  their  words  brought  me  back  to  earth 
and  seeing  they  were  all  using  their  guns  in  a  way  that  showed 
they  were  used  to  it,  I  unlimbered  my  artillery  and  after  the 
first  shot  I  lost  all  fear  and  fought  like  a  veteran. 

We  soon  routed  the  Indians  and  they  left,  taking  with 


DEADWOOD  DICK  43 

them  nearly  all  we  had,  and  we  were  powerless  to  pursue  them. 
We  were  compelled  to  finish  our  journey  home  almost  on  foot, 
as  there  were  only  six  horses  left  to  fourteen  of  us. 
Our  friend  and  companion  who  was  shot  in  the  fight,  we  buried 
on  the  plains,  wrapped  in  his  blanket  with  stones  piled  over 
his  grave.  After  this  engagement  with  the  Indians  I  seemed 
to  lose  all  sense  as  to  what  fear  was  and  thereafter  during 
my  whole  life  on  the  range  I  never  experienced  the  least  feeling 
of  fear,  no  matter  how  trying  the  ordeal  or  how  desperate 
my  position. 

The  home  ranch  was  located  on  the  Palo  Duro  river  in 
the  western  part  of  the  Pan  Handle,  Texas,  which  we  reached 
in  the  latter  part  of  May,  it  taking  us  considerably  over  a 
month  to  make  the  return  journey  home  from  Dodge  City. 
I  remained  in  the  employ  of  the  Duval  outfit  for  three  years, 
making  regular  trips  to  Dodge  City  every  season  and  to  many 
other  places  in  the  surrounding  states  with  herds  of  horses 
and  cattle  for  market  and  to  be  delivered  to  other  ranch  own- 
ers all  over  Texas,  Wyoming  and  the  Dakotas.  By  strict  atten- 
tion to  business,  born  of  a  genuine  love  of  the  free  and  wild 
life  of  the  range,  and  absolute  fearlessness,  I  became  known 
throughout  the  country  as  a  good  all  around  cow  boy  and  a 
splendid  hand  in  a  stampede. 

After  returning  from  one  of  our  trips  north  with  a  bunch 
of  cattle  in  the  fall  of  1872,  I  received  and  accepted  a  better 
position  with  the  Pete  Gallinger  company,  whose  immense 
range  was  located  on  the  Gila  River  in  southern  Arizona.  So 
after  drawing  the  balance  of  my  pay  from  the  Duval  company 
and  bidding  good  bye  to  the  true  and  tried  companions  of  the 
past  three  years,  who  had  learned  me  the  business  and  been 
with  me  in  many  a  trying  situation,  it  was  with  genuine  regret 
that  I  left  them  for  my  new  position,  one  that  meant  more 
to  me  in  pay  and  experience.  I  stayed  with  Pete  Gallinger 
company  for  several  years  and  soon  became  one  of  their  most 
trusted  men,  taking  an  important  part  in  all  the  big  round-ups 
and  cuttings  throughout  western  Texas,  Arizona  and  other 
states  where  the  company  had  interests  to  be  looked  after, 
sometimes  riding  eighty  miles  a  day  for  days  at  a  time  over  the 


14  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

trails  of  Texas  and  the  surrounding  country  and  naturally  I 
soon  became  well  known  among  the  cowboys  rangers,  scouts 
and  guides  it  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  in  my  wanderings  over 
the  country,  in  the  wake  of  immense  herds  of  the  long  horned 
Texas  cattle  and  large  bands  of  range  horses.  Many  of  these 
men  who  were  my  companions  on  the  trail  and  in  camp,  have 
since  become  famous  in  story  and  history,  and  a  braver,  truer 
set  of  men  never  lived  than  these  wild  sons  of  the  plains  whose 
home  was  in  the  saddle  and  their  couch,  mother  earth,  with 
the  sky  for  a  covering.  They  were  always  ready  to  share  their 
blanket  and  their  last  ration  with  a  less  fortunate  fellow  com- 
panion and  always  assisted  each  other  in  the  many  trying 
situations  that  were  continually  coming  up  in  a  cowboy's 
life. 

When  we  were  not  on  the  trail  taking  large  herds  of 
cattle  or  horses  to  market  or  to  be  delivered  to  other  ranches 
we  were  engaged  in  range  riding,  moving  large  numbers  of 
cattle  from  one  grazing  range  to  another,  keeping  them  to- 
gether, and  hunting  up  strays  which,  despite  the  most  earnest 
efforts  of  the  range  riders  would  get  away  from  the  main  herd 
and  wander  for  miles  over  the  plains  before  they  could  be 
found,  overtaken  and  returned  to  the  main  herd. 

Then  the  Indians  and  the  white  outlaws  who  infested  the 
country  gave  us  no  end  of  trouble,  as  they  lost  no  opportunity 
to  cut  out  and  run  off  the  choicest  part  of  a  herd  of  long 
horns,  or  the  best  of  a  band  of  horses,  causing  the  cowboys  a 
ride  of  many  a  long  mile  over  the  dusty  plains  in  pursuit,  and 
many  are  the  fierce  engagements  we  had,  when  after  a  long 
chase  of  perhaps  hundreds  of  miles  over  the  ranges  we  over- 
took the  thieves.  It  then  became  a  case  of  ''to  the  victor  be- 
longs the  spoils,"  as  there  was  no  law  respected  in  this  wild 
country,  except  the  law  of  might  and  the  persuasive  qualities 
of  the  45  Colt  pistol. 

Accordingly  it  became  absolutely  necessary  for  a  cow- 
boy to  understand  his  gun  and  know  how  to  place  its  contents 
where  it  would  do  the  most  good,  therefore  I  in  common  with 
my  other  companions  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  practice 
with  my  45  Colts  and  the  opportunities  were  not  lacking  by  any 


DEADWOOD  DICK  45 

means  and  so  in  time  I  became  fairly  proficient  and  able  in 
most  cases  to  hit  a  barn  door  providing  the  door  was  not  too 
far  away,  and  was  steadily  improving  in  this  as  I  was  in  ex- 
perience and  knowledge  of  the  other  branches  of  the  business 
which  I  had  chosen  as  my  life's  work  and  which  I  had  begun 
to  like  so  well,  because  while  the  life  was  hard  and  in  some 
ways  exacting,  yet  it  was  free  and  wild  and  contained  the  ele- 
ments of  danger  which  my  nature  craved  and  which  began  to 
manifest  itself  when  I  was  a  pugnacious  youngster  on  the 
old  plantation  in  our  rock  battles  and  the  breaking  of  the  wild 
horses.  I  gloried  in  the  danger,  and  the  wild  and  free  life  of 
the  plains,  the  new  country  I  was  continually  traversing,  and 
the  many  new  scenes  and  incidents  continually  arising  in  the 
life  of  a  rough  rider. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

I  LEARN  TO  SPEAK  SPANISH  AND  AM  MADE  CHIEF 
BRAND  READER.  THE  BIG  ROUND-UPS.  RIDING 
THE  7-Y-L  STEER.  LONG  RIDES.  HUNTING 
STRAYS. 


Having  now  fairly  begun  my  life  as  a  cowboy,  I  was 
fast  learning  the  many  ins  and  outs  of  the  business,  while 
my  many  roamings  over  the  range  country  gave  me  a  know- 
ledge of  it  not  possessed  by  many  at  that  time.  Being  of  a 
naturally  observant  disposition,  I  noticed  many  things  to  which 
others  attached  no  'significance.  This  quality  of  observance 
proved  of  incalculable  benefit  to  me  in  many  ways  during  my 
life  as  a  range  rider  in  the  western  country.  My  employment 
with  the  Pete  Gallinger  company  took  me  all  over  the  Pan 
Handle  country,  Texas,  Arizona,  and  New  Mexico  with  herds 
of  horses  and  cattle  for  market  and  to  be  delivered  to  other 
ranch  owners  and  large  cattle  breeders.  Naturally  I  became 
very  well  acquainted  with  all  the  many  different  trails  and 
grazing  ranges  located  in  the  stretch  of  country  between  the 
north  of  Montana  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  between  the 
Missouri  state  line  and  the  Pacific  ocean.  This  whole  terri- 
tory I  have  covered  many  times  in  the  saddle,  sometimes 
at  the  rate  of  eighty  or  one  hundred  miles  a  day.  These  long 
rides  and  much  traveling  over  the  country  were  of  great  benefit 
to  me,  as  it  enabled  me  to  meet  so  many  different  people  con- 
nected with  the  cattle  business  and  also  to  learn  the  different 
trails  and  the  lay  of  the  country  generally. 

Among  the  other  things  that  I  picked  up  on  my  wander- 
ings, was  a  knowledge  of  the  Spanish  language,  which  I 
learned  to  speak  like  a  native.  I  also  became  very  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  many  different  brands  scattered  over  this 
stretch  of  country,  consequently  it  was  not  long  before  the 


DEADWOOD  DICK  47 

cattle  men  began  to  recognize  my  worth  and  the  Gallinger 
company  made  me  their  chief  brand  reader,  which  duties  I 
performed  for  several  years  with  honor  to  myself  and  satis- 
faction to  my  employers.  In  the  cattle  country,  all  the  large 
cattle  raisers  had  their  squad  of  brand  readers  whose  duty  it 
was  to  attend  all  the  big  round-ups  and  cuttings  throughout 
the  country,  and  to  pick  out  their  own  brands  and  to  see  that 
the  different  brands  were  not  altered  or  counterfeited.  They 
also  had  to  look  to  the  branding  of  the  young  stock. 

During  the  big  round-ups  it  was  our  duty  to  pick  out  our 
brand,  and  then  send  them  home  under  the  charge  of  our 
cowboys,  likewise  the  newly  branded  stock.  After  each 
brand  was  cut  out  and  started  homeward,  we  had  to  stay  with 
the  round  up  to  see  that  strays  from  the  different  herds  from 
the  surrounding  country  did  not  again  get  mixed  up,  until 
the  different  home  ranges  were  reached.  This  work  employed 
a  large  number  of  cowboys,  who  lived,  ate  and  often  slept 
in  the  saddle,  as  they  covered  many  hundreds  of  miles  in  a 
very  short  space  of  time.  This  was  made  possible  as  every 
large  cattleman  had  relays  of  horses  sent  out  over  the  country 
where  we  might  be  expected  to  touch,  and  so  we  could  always 
count  on  finding  a  fresh  horse  awaiting  us  at  the  end  of  a 
twenty-five  or  a  fifty  mile  ride.  But  for  us  brand  readers 
there  was  no  rest,  we  merely  changed  our  saddles  and  outfit 
to  a  fresh  horse  and  were  again  on  the  go.  After  the  general 
round  up  was  over,  cowboy  sports  and  a  good  time  generally 
was  in  order  for  those  engaged  in  it.  The  interest  of  nearly 
all  of  us  centered  in  the  riding  of  what  was  known  as  the 
7  Y-L  steer.  A  big  long  horn  wild  steer,  generally  the  worst, 
in  the  herd,  was  cut  out  and  turned  loose  on  the  open  prairie. 
The  cow  boy  who  could  rope  and  ride  him  would  get  the  steer 
as  his  reward,  and  let  me  assure  you  dear  reader,  that  it  was 
not  so  easy  as  it  sounds,  as  the  steer  separated  from  its 
fellows  would  become  extremely  ferocious  and  wild,  and  the 
man  who  attempted  to  rope  and  ride  him  would  be  in  mo- 
mentary danger  of  losing  his  life,  if  he  relaxed  in  the  least,  his 
vigilance  and  caution,  because  a  wild  steer  is  naturally  fero- 
cious. Even  in  cutting  them  out  of  the  round  up  I  have  known 


*! 


I 

bJD 

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V^- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  49 

them  to  get  mad  and  attack  the  cowboys  who  only  saved 
themselves  by  the  quickness  of  their  horses,  or  the  friendly 
intervention  of  a  comrade  who  happened  to  be  near  to  rope 
the  maddened  long  horn,  and  thus  divert  his  attention  to 
other  things.  But  in  the  case  of  the  7  Y-L  steer  such  inter- 
vention is  against  the  rules,  and  the  cowboy  who  attempts 
to  rope  and  ride  the  steer  must  at  all  times  look  out  for  him- 
self. I  have  seen  two  horses  and  their  riders  gored  to  death 
in  this  sport,  and  I  have  had  to  shoot  more  than  one  steer 
to  save  myself  and  horse  after  my  horse  had  fallen  with  me 
and  placed  himself  as  well  as  me  at  the  maddened  beast's 
mercy.  At  such  times  it  takes  a  cool  head  and  a  steady 
hand  as  no  random  shot  will  stop  a  wild  steer.  The  bullet 
must  be  placed  in  a  certain  spot,  the  center  of  the  forehead, 
to  accomplish  its  mission.  The  last  time  I  had  a  horse  fall 
with  me  in  roping  the  7  Y-L  steer,  he  fell  as  the  steer  was 
but  a  few  feet  away,  falling  in  such  a  way  that  my  leg  caught 
under  the  saddle,  holding  me  fast.  Quick  as  I  could  I  gave 
the  steer  a  bullet  in  the  head  and  he  stumbled  and  fell  dead 
on  top  of  my  horse  and  me,  so  that  the  boys  had  to  interfere 
to  the  extent  of  dragging  the  steer  and  horse  off  of  my  leg. 

The  cowboy  who  is  successful  in  roping  the  steer  must 
then  mount  and  ride  him.  If  he  does  that  successfully  the 
steer  becomes  his  personal  property  to  do  with  as  he  will, 
only  a  slight  reward  for  the  risking  of  his  life  and  the  trouble 
of  accomplishing  the  feat.  But  it  is  done  more  for  sport's 
sake  than  anything  else,  and  the  love  of  showing  off,  a 
weakness  of  all  cow  boys  more  or  less.  But  really  it  takes  a 
high  class  of  horsemanship  to  ride  a  long  horn,  to  get  on 
his  back  and  stay  there  as  he  runs,  jumps,  pitches  side  ways, 
backwards,  forward,  up  and  down,  then  over  the  prairie  like 
a  streak  of  lightning.  I  have  had  the  experience  and  I  can 
assure  you  it  is  no  child's  play.  More  than  one  7  Y-L  steer 
has  fallen  to  my  lot,  but  I  had  to  work  for  it,  and  work  hard. 
After  all  it  was  only  part  of  the  general  routine  of  the  cow 
boy's  life,  in  which  danger  plays  so  important  a  part.  It  is 
seldom  thought  of  being  merely  a  matter  of  course,  and  none 
of  us  would  have  foregone  the  sport,  had  we  known  that  sure 


5o  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

death  awaited  us  as  the  result,  because  above  all  things,  the 
test  of  a  cow  boy's  worth  is  his  gameness  and  his  nerve. 
He  is  not  supposed  to  know  what  fear  means,  and  I  assure 
you  there  are  very  few  who  know  the  meaning  of  that  word. 
Mfost  of  my  readers  no  doubt  have  heard  of  the  great 
round  ups  and  cuttings,  connected  with  the  cattle  raiser's  life. 
But  not  one  in  a  hundred  has  any  idea  as  to  how  an  immens< 
herd  of  wild  cattle  are  handled  in  a  big  round  up.  My  many 
years  of  experience  has  given  me  unusual  knowledge  on  the 
subject,  and  you  may  bring  any  cattleman  or  boss  to  me,  am 
I  will  guarantee  to  answer  any  question  he  can  ask  me  about 
the  cattle  business.  The  first  general  round  up  occurs  aboul 
the  first  of  April.  This  round  up  is  to  run  in  all  the  neai 
cattle  belonging  to  each  man,  and  head  them  toward  oui 
respective  ranges.  If  we  find  any  other  brand  mixed  up  with 
ours  we  head  them  toward  their  own  range,  and  keep  our 
own  together.  Every  cow  boy  does  the  same  and  in  this  way 
every  cattleman  is  enable  to  get  his  own  brand  together  on 
his  own  range,  so  that  when  the  next  general  round  up  occurs 
he  will  have  most  of  his  near  cattle  together  on  the  home 
range.  In  order  to  get  the  cattle  together  in  the  first  general 
round  up,  we  would  have  to  ride  for  hundreds  of  miles  over 
the  country  in  search  of  the  long  horn  steers  and  old  cows 
that  had  drifted  from  the  home  range  during  the  winter  and 
were  now  scattered  to  the  four  winds  of  heaven.  As  soon  as 
they  were  found  they  were  started  off  under  the  care  of  cow 
boys  for  the  place  agreed  upon  for  the  general  round  up. 
whether  they  belonged  to  us  or  not,  while  the  rest  of  us 
continued  the  search.  All  the  cow  boys  from  the  many 
different  outfits  working  this  way  enabled  us  to  soon  get  all 
the  strays  rounded  up  in  one  great  herd  in  which  the  cattle 
of  a  dozen  different  owners  were  mixed  up  together.  It  then 
became  our  duty  to  cut  out  our  different  herds  and  start  them 
homewards.  Then  we  had  to  brand  the  young  stock  that  .had 
escaped  that  ordeal  at  the  hands  of  the  range  riders.  On 
finding  the  strays  and  starting  them  homewards,  we  had  to 
keep  up  the  search,  because  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  we 
had  done  range /iding  or  line  riding  all  winter,  a  large  number 


DEADWOOD  DICK  51 

• 

of  cattle  would  manage  to  evade  the  vigilance  of  the  cow 
boys  and  get  away.  These  must  all  be  accounted  for  at  the 
great  round  up,  as  they  stood  for  dollars  and  cents,  profit  and 
loss  to  the  great  cattle  kings  of  the  west.  In  going  after  these 
strayed  and  perhaps  -stolen  cattle  we  boys  always  provided 
ourselves  with  everything  we  needed,  including  plenty  of 
grub,  as  sometimes  we  would  be  gone  for  nearly  two  months 
and  sometimes  much  longer.  It  was  not  an  uncommon  oc- 
currence for  us  to  have  shooting  trouble  over  our  different 
brands.  In  such  disputes  the  boys  would  kill  each  other  if 
others  did  not  interfere  in  time  to  prevent  it,  because  in  those 
days  on  the  great  cattle  ranges  there  was  no  law  but  the  law 
of  might,  and  all  disputes  were  settled  with  a  forty-five  Colt 
pistol.  In  such  cases  the  man  who  was  quickest  on  the  draw 
and  whose  eye  was  the  best,  pretty  generally  got  the  decision. 
Therefore  it  was  of  the  greatest  importance  that  the  cow 
boy  should  understand  his  gun,  its  capabilities  and  its  shooting 
qualities.  A  cow  boy  would  never  carry  anything  but  the 
very  best  gun  obtainable,  as  his  life  depended  on  it  often. 
After  securing  a  good  gun  the  cow  boy  had  to  learn  how  to 
use  it,  if  he  did  not  already  know  how.  In  doing  so  no  trouble 
or  expense  was  spared,  and  I  know  there  were  very  few  poor 
shots  on  the  ranges  over  which  we  rode  and  they  used  the 
accomplishment  to  protect  themselves  and  their  employer's 
cattle  from  the  Indian  thiefs  and  the  white  desperadoes  who 
infested  the  cattle  country,  and  who  lost  no  opportunity  to 
stampede  the  herds  and  run  off  large  numbers  of  them.  When- 
ever this  happened  it  generally  resulted  in  a  long  chase  and 
a  fierce  fight  in  which  someone  was  sure  to  get  hurt,  and  hurt 
badly.  But  that  fact  did  not  bother  us  in  the  least.  It  was 
all  simply  our  duty  and  our  business  for  which  we  were  paid 
and  paid  good,  and  so  we  accepted  things  as  they  came,  always 
ready  for  it  whatever  it  might  be,  and  always  taking  pride  in 
our  work  in  which  we  always  tried  to  excel. 

Christmas,  Dec.  25,  1872,  is  a  day  in  my  memory  which 
time  cannot  blot  out.  I  and  a  number  of  friends  were  in  a 
place  called  Holbrook,  Ariz.  A  dispute  started  over  a  saddle 
horse  with  the  following  result.  Arizona  Bob  drew  his  forty- 
five  Colt  revolver,  but  before  he  had  time  to  fire  he  was  in- 
stantly killed  by  A.  Jack.  Then  a  general  fight  ensued  in 
wh'ich  five  horses  and  three  men  were  killed. 

It  was  a  sad  thing  for  me  to  see  my  friends  dead  in  a 
corral  on  a  Christmas  morning,  but  I  helped  bury  the  dead 
and  took  care  of  the  wounded.  TJhe  names  were  A.  Jack,  Wild 
Horse  Pete  and  Arizona  Bill. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

ON  THE  TRAIL.  A  TEXAS  STORM.  A  CATTLE  STAM- 
PEDE. BATTLE  WITH  THE  ELEMENTS.  AFTER 
BUSINESS  COMES  PLEASURE. 

After  the  round  ups  and  on  returning  from  our  long  rides 
after  strayed  cattle  we  would  have  to  prepare  to  take  the  trail 
with  herds  of  cattle  and  horses  for  market  and  to  be  delivered 
to  other  large  ranch  owners.  The  party  of  cow  boys  to  make 
these  trips  were  all  selected  men.  We  would  spend  several 
days  at  the  home  ranch  resting  up  and  preparing  our  outfit,  in 
which  our  guns,  saddles,  blankets  and  horses  were  given  a 
thorough  overhauling  and  placed  in  first  class  condition,  as 
they  would  be  called  on  to  do  good  hard  service  on  these  trips 
on  the  trail.  The  nature  of  our  journey  would  depend  very 
much  on  the  kind  of  cattle  we  were  called  upon  to  handle. 
Sometimes  it  would  be  all  classes  together;  on  other  occasions 
the  herd  would  consist  of  a  certain  kind,  such  as  long  yearlings, 
short  yearlings,  tail  end  and  scabs.  The  larger  demand  how- 
ever, seemed  to  be  for  straight  three  and  four  year  old  steers. 
These  latter  kind  were  the  easiest  to  handle  on  the  trail.  It  is 
no  doubt  necessary  that  I  explain  the  difference  between  the 
different  kinds  I  mention  here.  Short  yearlings  were  those 
over  one  year  old  and  short  of  two  years,  long  yearlings  those 
two  years  and  short  of  three  years,  tail  end  and  scabs  mean 
nearly  the  same  thing,  and  comprise  all  the  very  young  stock 
of  all  classes  not  yet  reached  the  dignity  of  yearlings.  These 
latter  were  in  demand  from  the  cattle  men,  who  took  them  to 
feed  until  they  got  their  growth  or  to  raise  from,  as  stock 
cattle  three  or  four  years  old  were  generally  the  market  or 
beef  cattle.  These  latter  were  by  all  odds  the  easiest  to  handle 
on  the  trail.  Sometimes  we  would  have  an  order  for  five 
or  six  hundred  head  of  all  classes  of  cattle,  then  again  we 
would  have  to  start  out  with  fifteen  hundred  head  of  shipping 
steers,  or  several  hundred  head  of  horses. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  53 

Shortly  after  I  entered  the  employ  of  the  Pete  Gallinger 
company,  and  after  the  round-ups  of  the  early  season,  we  re- 
ceived an  order  for  two  thousand  five  hundred  head  of  three 
year  old  steers  to  be  delivered  at  Dodge  City,  Kansas.  This 
<vas  the  largest  herd  I  had  up  to  the  present  time  followed 
good  rest  at  the  home  ranch,  we  strung  the  large  herd  out 
with  two  months  provisions,  and  the  camp  wagon.  After  a 
and  one  hundred  extra  saddle  horses  and  several  pack  horses, 
on  the  trail.  Our  outfit  consisted  of  forty  picked  cow  boys, 
along  the  old  Chillers  trail  en  route  for  Kansas,  and  we 
started  on  what  proved  to  be  an  eventful  journey.  The  herd 
behaved  splendidly  and  gave  us  very  little  trouble  until  we 
crossed  the  Red  river  and  struck  the  Old  Dog  and  Sun  City 
trail,  here  they  became  restless,  and  stampeded  nearly  every 
night,  and  whenever  they  got  half  a  chance.  This  made  it 
very  hard  on  us  cowboys,  as  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  ride  the 
lines  of  such  a  large  herd,  let  alone  having  to  chase  them 
back  in  line  from  many  miles  over  the  prairie  where  they 
had  stampeded  in  their  wild  career.  After  crossing  the  Kan- 
sas line  at  a  place  known  as  the  South  Forks,  while  making  for 
the  head  of  the  Cimarron  river  on  the  twenty-seventh  of 
June,  we  experienced  one  of  the  hardest  rain  and  hail  storms 
I  had  ever  seen,  in  the  western  country,  the  rain  came  down 
in  torrents  only  to  cease  and  give  place  to  hail  stones  the 
size  of  walnuts.  While  the  thunder  and  lightning  was  in- 
cessant. It  was  shortly  after  dark  when  the  storm  commenced. 
The  twenty-five  hundred  head  of  cattle  strung  out  along  the 
trail  became  panic  stricken  and  stampeded,  and  despite  our 
utmost  efforts,  we  were  unable  to  keep  them  in  line. 

Imagine,  my  dear  reader,  riding  your  horse  at  the  top 
of  his  speed  through  torrents  of  rain  and  hail,  and  darkness 
60  black  that  we  could  not  see  our  horses  heads,  chasing  an 
immense  herd  of  maddened  cattle  which  we  could  hear  but 
could  not  see,  except  during  the  vivid  flashes  of  lightning 
which  furnished  our  only  light.  It  was  the  worst  night's  ride 
I  ever  experienced.  Late  the  next  morning  we  had  the  herd 
rounded  up  thirty  miles  from  where  they  started  from 
the  night  before.  On  going  back  over  the  country  to  our 


54 


LIFE  AN'D  ADVENTURES   OF 


camp  of  the  night  before,  we  saw  the  great  danger  we  had 
been  in  during  our  mad  ride.  There  were  holes,  cliffs,  gulleys 
and  big  rocks  scattered  all  around,  some  of  the  cliffs  going 
down  a  sheer  fifty  feet  or  more,  where  if  we  had  fallen  over 
we  would  have  been  dashed  to  pieces  on  the  rocks  below,  but 
we  never  thought  of  our  personal  danger  that  night,  and  we 
did  not  think  particularly  of  it  when  we  saw  it  further  than  to 
make  a  few  joking  remarks  about  what  would  have  happened 
if  some  one  of  us  had  gone  over.  One  of  the  boys  offered  to 
bet  that  a  horse  and  rider  going  over  one  of  those  cliffs  would 
bring  up  in  China,  while  others  thought  he  would  bring  up  in 
Utah.  It  was  our  duty  to  save  the  cattle,  and  every  thing 
else  was  of  secondary  importance.  We  never  lost  a  single 
steer  during  this  wild  night — something  we  were  justly  proud 
of.  This  proved  the  last  trouble  we  were  to  have  with  the  herd, 
and  we  soon  reached  the  five  mile  divide,  five  miles  from  Dodge 
City  without  further  incident,  and  with  our  herd  intact.  Here 
we  were  to  hold  them  until  turned  over  to  their  new  owners. 
This  accomplished,  our  work  was  done  and  done  well  for  this 
trip.  Then  we  all  headed  for  Dodge  City  to  have  a  good  time, 
and  I  assure  you  we  had  it.  It  was  our  intention  and  ambition 
to  paint  the  town  a  deep  red  color  and  drink  up  all  the  bad 
whiskey  in  the  city.  Our  nearly  two  months  journey  over 
the  dusty  plains  and  ranges  had  made  us  all  inordinately 
thirsty  and  wild,  and  here  is  where  we  had  our  turn,  according- 
ly we  started  out  to 'So  the  town  in  true  western  style,  in  which 
we  were  perfectly  successful  until  the  town  had  done  us, 
and  we  were  dead  broke.  This  fact  slowed  us  up,  because  being 
broke  we  could  not  get  up  any  more  steam  and  we  had  to  cool 
down  right  there.  We  then  started  out  to  find  our  boss,  but 
that  gentleman  being  wise  in  his  time  and  generation,  and 
knowing  we  would  soon  all  be  broke,  and  would  be  wanting 
more  money,  and  that  he  would  let  us  have  it  if  we  asked 
him  for  it  only  to  be  thrown  away,  he  made  himself  scarce,  and 
he  kept  out  of  our  sight  until  we  cooled  off.  For  my  part  I 
would  not  spend  all  my  money.  I  would  draw  about  fifty  dol- 
lars, then  I  would  get  what  things  I  wanted  and  then  would 
let  the  other  go  free,  but  while  our  money  lasted  we  would 


DEADWOOD  DICK  55 

certainly  enjoy  ourselves,  in  dancing,  drinking  and  shooting 
up  the  town.  It  was  our  delight  to  give  exhibitions  of  rough 
riding  roping  and  everything  else  we  could  think  of  to 
make  things  go  fast  enough  to  suit  our  ideas  of  speed.  After 
several  days  spent  in  this  manner  we  would  begin  to  make 
ready  to  start  on  the  return  journey  home  to  Texas.  We  left 
Dodge  City  on  the  first  of  July  and  on  the  fifteenth  of  August 
we  were  back  on  the  old  home  ranch,  where  we  rested  up  a 
few  days  before  again  starting  out  to  ride  the  range  after  the 
long  horns  again.  As  I  was  a  brand  reader  I  had  little  time 
to  rest  as  my  services  were  in  demand  from  many  of  the  large 
cattle  kings  of  Texas  and  Arizona,  and  when  ever  a  dispute 
arose  over  brands,  I  was  generally  sent  for  to  straighten  mat- 
ters out.  This  with  the  numerous  round  ups  which  I  had  to 
attend  and  the  many  transfers  of  cattle  throughout  the  pan 
handle  country  kept  me  continually  on  the  go.  When  my  ser- 
vices were  not  needed  as  a  brand  reader  I  rode  the  range  along 
with  the  other  cow  boys.  This  kept  us  almost  continually  in  the 
saddle,  and  away  from  the  home  ranch  for  days  at  a  time ;  when 
this  was  the  case  our  food  consisted  of  biscuit  and  cakes  which 
we  made  ourselves  from  meal  which  we  carried  with  us,  and 
such  meat  and  game  as  we  could  knock  over  with  our  gpns. 
We  camped  wherever  it  suited  and  where  there  was  feed  for 
our  horses.  A  cow  boy's  first  care  is  always  after  his  gun  an:i 
his  horse,  that  animal  often  meaning  life  and  liberty  to  the 
cow  boy  in  a  tight  place  and  the  cow  boy  without  a  horse  is 
like  a  chicken  without  its  head,  completely  lost.  My  faithful 
horse  has  times  without  number  carried  me  out  of  danger 
and  preserved  my  life.  We  were  not  destined  to  have  much 
rest  this  season  as  shortly  after  we  returned  from  the  trip 
to  Dodge  City,  the  boss  bought  a  large  herd  of  cattle  down 
on  the  Rio  Grande,  just  over  the  line  in  Mexico,  which  we  haJ 
orders  for,  so  we  had  to  start  out  and  round  them  up.  This 
was  no  easy  matter  as  they  were  scattered  over  a  large  range 
of  territory  and  many  strays  had  to  be  rounded  up  and  got 
with  the  main  herd.  This  we  finally  accomplished,  after  a  great 
deal  of  hard  riding  over  the  rough  Rio  Grande  country,  and 
both  men  and  horses  were  completely  tired  out,  so  we  went 


DEADWOOD  DICK  57 

into  camp,  only  holding  the  herd  together  and  getting  rested 
up.  This  opportunity  we  improved  by  getting  acquainted  and 
fraternizing  with  the  cow  boys  of  one  of  the  oldest  cattle  coun- 
tries this  side  of  the  herring  pond — Old  Mexico.  These  men 
were  for  the  most  part  typical  greasers,  but  they  proved  to 
us  that  they  knew  a  thing  or  two  about  the  cattle  business, 
and  all  things  considered  they  were  a  jolly  companionable 
sort  of  an  outfit.  From  them  we  learned  a  few  pointers  and 
also  gave  them  a  few  very  much  to  our  mutual  benefit.  We 
remained  here  a  few  days  before  starting  northward  with  our 
herd,  but  these  few  days  proved  very  pleasant  ones  to  us  boys 
who,  on  account  of  the  monotony  of  the  life  we  led  always 
welcomed  new  experiences  or  events  that  would  give  us  some- 
thing to  think  and  talk  about  while  on  our  long  rides  behind 
the  slow  moving  herd  of  long-horn  steers,  or  around  our  camp 
fires  when  in  camp  on  the  plains,  and  it  gave  us  especial  pleas- 
ure to  meet  men  of  the  same  calling  from  other  states  over 
the  west.  It  not  only  gave  us  pleasure,  but  it  added  to  our 
cow  knowledge,  and  of  the  country  over  which  we  might 
at  any  time  be  called  on  to  drive  cattle,  and  in  such  cases 
a  knowledge  of  the  country  was  most  valuable  to  us.  Then 
a  cow  boy's  life  contains  many  things  in  which  he  is  con- 
tinually trying  to  improve  and  excel,  such  as  roping,  shoot- 
ing, riding  and  branding  and  many  other  things  connected 
with  the  cattle  business.  We,  in  common  with  other  trades, 
did  not  know  it  all,  and  we  were  always  ready  to  learn  any- 
thing new  when  we  met  any  one  who  was  capable  of  teaching 
us. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

EN  ROUTE  TO  WYOMING.  THE  INDIANS  DEMAND 
TOLL.  THE  FIGHT.  A  BUFFALO  STAMPEDE. 
TRAGIC  DEATH  OF  CAL.  SURCEY.  AN  EVENT- 
FUL TRIP. 

After  getting  the  cattle  together  down  on  the  Rio  Grande 
and  both  man  and  beast  had  got  somewhat  rested  up,  we 
started  the  herd  north.  They  were  to  be  delivered  to  a  man 
by  the  name  of  Mitchell,  whose  ranch  was  located  along  the 
Powder  river,  up  in  northern  Wyoming.  It  was  a  long 
distance  to  drive  cattle  from  Old  Mexico  to  northern  Wyom- 
ing, but  to  us  it  was  nothing  extraordinary  as  we  were  often 
called  on  to  make  even  greater  distances,  as  the  railroads  were 
not  so  common  then  as  now,  and  transportation  by  rail  was 
very  little  resorted  to  and  except  when  beef  cattle  were  sent  to 
the  far  east,  they  were  always  transported  on  the  hoof  over- 
land. Our  route  lay  through  southern  Texas,  Indian  Territory, 
Kansas  and  Nebraska,  to  the  Shoshone  mountains  in  northern 
Wyoming.  We  had  on  this  trip  five  hundred  head  of  mostly 
four  year  old  long  horn  steers.  We  did  not  have  much  trouble 
with  them  until  we  struck  Indian  Territory.  On  nearing  the  first 
Indian  reservation,  we  were  stopped  by  a  large  body  of  Indian 
bucks  who  said  we  could  not  pass  through  their  country  un- 
less we  gave  them  a  steer  for  the  privilege.  Now  as  we  were 
following  the  regular  government  trail  which  was  a  free  public 
highway,  it  did  not  strike  us  as  justifiable  to  pay  our  way, 
accordingly  our  boss  flatly  refused  to  give  the  Indians  a  steer, 
remarking  that  we  needed  all  the  cattle  we  had  and  proposed 
to  keep  them,  but  he  would  not  mind  giving  them  something 
much  warmer  if  they  interfered  with  us.  This  ultimatum  of 
our  boss  had  the  effect  of  starting  trouble  right  there.  We 
went  into  camp  at  the  edge  of  the  Indian  country.  All  around 
us  was  the  tall  blue  grass  of  that  region  which  in  places  was 


DEADWOOD  DICK  59 

higher  than  a  horse,  affording  an  ideal  hiding  place  for  the 
Indians.  As  we  expected  an  attack  from  the  Indians,  the 
boss  arranged  strong  watches  to  keep  a  keen  lookout.  We 
had  no  sooner  finished  making  camp  when  the  Indians  showed 
up,  and  charged  us  with  a  yell  or  rather  a  series  of  yells,  I 
for  one  had  got  well  used  to  the  blood  curdling  yells  of  the 
Indians  and  they  did  not  scare  us  in  the  least.  We  were 
all  ready  for  them  and  after  a  short  but  sharp  fight  the  Indians 
withdrew  and  every  thing  became  quiet,  but  us  cow  boys  were 
not  such  guys  as  to  be  fooled  by  the  seeming  quietness.  We 
knew  it  was  only  the  calm  before  the  storm,  and  we  prepared 
ourselves  accordingly,  but  we  were  all  dead  tired  and  it  was 
necessary  that  we  secure  as  much  rest  as  possible,  so  the  low 
watch  turned  in  to  rest  until  midnight,  when  they  were  to  re- 
lieve the  upper  watch,  in  whose  hands  the  safety  of  the  camp 
was  placed  till  that  time.  Every  man  slept  with  his  boots 
on  and  his  gun  near  his  hand.  We  had  been  sleeping  several 
hours,  but  it  seemed  to  me  only  a  few  minutes  when  the 
danger  signal  was  given.  Immediately  every  man  was  on  his 
feet,  gun  in  hand  and  ready  for  business.  The  Indians  had  se- 
cured reinforcements  and  after  dividing  in  two  bands,  one 
band  hid  in  the  tall  grass  in  order  to  pick  us  off  and  shoot  us 
as  we  attempted  to  hold  our  cattle,  while  the  other  band 
proceeded  to  stampede  the  herd,  but  fortunately  there  were 
enough  of  us  to  prevent  the  herd  from  stringing  out  on  us, 
as  we  gave  our  first  attention  to  the  cattle  we  got  them  to 
merling.  Back  and  forward,  through  the  tall  grass,  the  large 
herd  charged,  the  Indians  being  kept  too  busy  keeping  out 
of  their  way  to  have  much  time  to  bother  with  us.  This  kept 
up  until  daylight,  but  long  before  that  time  we  came  to  the 
conclusion  that  this  was  the  worst  herd  of  cattle  to  stampede 
we  ever  struck,  they  seemed  perfectly  crazy  even  after  the 
last  Indian  had  disappeared.  We  were  unable  to  account  for 
the  strange  actions  of  the  cattle  until  daylight,  when  the  mys- 
tery was  a  mystery  no  longer.  The  Indians  in  large  numbers 
had  hid  in  the  tall  grass  for  the  purpose  of  shooting  us  from 
ambush  and  being  on  foot  they  were  unable  to  get  out  of 
the  way  of  the  herd  as  it  stampeded  through  the  grass,  the 


/^?^fe^l  wj  ^ 

>^pwl»i 

v_,ylr^  J31  A 


DEADWOOD  DICK  61 

result  was  that  scores  of  the  painted  savages  were  trampled 
under  the  hoofs  of  the  maddened  cattle,  and  in  the  early  gray 
dawn  of  the  approaching  day  we  witnessed  a  horrible  sight, 
the  Indians  were  all  cut  to  pieces,  their  heads,  limbs,  trunk 
and  blankets  all  being  ground  up  in  an  inseparable  mass,  as 
if  they  had  been  through  a  sausage  machine.  The  sight  was 
all  the  more  horrible  as  we  did  not  know  the  Indians  were 
hidden  in  the  grass  during  the  night,  but  their  presence  there 
accounted  for  the  strange  actions  of  the  herd  during  the  night. 
We  suffered  no  loss  or  damage  except  the  loss  of  our  rest, 
which  we  sorely  needed  as  we  were  all  pretty  well  played  out. 
However,  we  thought  it  advisable  to  move  our  herd  on  to  a 
more  desirable  and  safe  camping  place,  not  that  we  greatly 
feared  any  more  trouble  from  the  Indians,  not  soon  at  any 
rate,  but  only  to  be  better  prepared  and  in  better  shape  to  put 
up  a  fight  if  attacked.  The  second  night  we  camped  on  the 
open  plain  where  the  grass  was  not  so  high  and  where  the 
camp  could  be  better  guarded.  After  eating  our  supper  and 
placing  the  usual  watch  the  men  again  turned  in,  expecting 
this  time  to  get  a  good  night's  rest.  It  was  my  turn  to  take 
the  first  watch  and  with  the  other  boys,  who  were  to  watch 
with  me,  we  took  up  advantageous  positions  on  the  lookout. 
Everything  soon  became  still,  the  night  was  dark  and  sultry. 
It  was  getting  along  toward  midnight  when  all  at  once  we  be- 
came aware  of  a  roaring  noise  in  the  north  like  thunder,  slowly 
growing  louder  as  it  approached,  and  I  said  to  the  boys  that 
it  must  be  a  buffalo  stampede.  We  immediately  gave  the 
alarm  and  started  for  our  herd  to  get  them  out  of  the  way  of 
the  buffalo,  but  we  soon  found  that  despite  our  utmost  efforts 
we  would  be  unable  to  get  them  out  of  the  way,  so  we  came 
to  the  conclusion  to  meet  them  with  our  guns  and  try  and 
turn  the  buffalo  from  our  direction  if  possible,  and  prevent 
them  from  going  through  our  herd.  Accordingly  all  hands 
rode  to  meet  the  oncoming  stampede,  pouring  volley  after 
volley  into  the  almost  solid  mass  of  rushing  beasts,  but  they 
paid  no  more  attention  to  us  than  they  would  have  paid  to  a  lot 
of  boys  with  pea  shooters.  On  they  came,  a  maddened,  plung- 
ing, snorting,  bellowing  mass  of  horns  and  hoofs.  One  of 


r  i. 


\ 


DEADWOOD  DICK  63 

our  companions,  a  young  fellow  by  the  name  of  Cal  Surcey, 
who  was  riding  a  young  horse,  here  began  to  have  trouble 
in  controlling  his  mount  and  before  any  of  us  could  reach 
him  his  horse  bolted  right  in  front  of  the  herd  of  buffalo  and 
in  a  trice  the  horse  and  rider  went  down  and  the  whole  herd 
passed  over  them.     After  the  herd  had  passed  we  could  only 
find  a  few  scraps  of  poor  Cal's  clothing,  and  the  horse  he  had 
been  riding  was  reduced  to  the  size  of  a  jack  rabbit.    The  buf- 
falo went  through  our  herd  killing  five  head  and  crippling 
many  others,  and  scattering  them  all  over  the  plain.   This  was 
the  year  that  the  great  buffalo  slaughter  commenced  and  such 
stampedes  were  common  then.    It  seemed  to  me  that  as  soon 
as  we  got  out  of  one  trouble  we  got  into  another  on  this  trip. 
But  we  did  not  get  discouraged,  but  only  wondered  what 
would  happen  next.    We  did  not  care  much  for  ourselves,  as 
we  were  always  ready  and  in  most  cases  anxious  for  a  brush 
with  the  Indians,  or  for  the  other  dangers  of  the  trail,  as  they 
only  went  to  relieve  the  dull  monotony  of  life  behind  the  herd. 
But  these  cattle  were  entrusted  to  our  care  and  every  one 
represented  money,  good  hard  cash.     So  we  did  not  relish  in 
the  least  having  them  stampeded  by  the  Indians  or  run  over 
by  the  buffaloes.     If  casualties  kept  up    at    this    rate,    there 
would  not  be  very  "many  cattle  to  deliver  in  Wyoming  by  the 
time  we  got  there.     After  the  buffalo  stampede  we  rounded 
up  our  scattered  herd  and  went  into  camp  for  a  couple  of  days' 
rest  before  proceeding  on  our  journey  north.    The  tragic  death 
of  Cal  Surcey  had  a  very  depressing  effect  on  all  of  us  as  he 
was  a  boy  well  liked  by  us  all,  and  it  was  hard  to  think  that  we 
could  not  even  give  him  a  Christian  burial.     We  left  his  re- 
mains  trampled   into   the   dust   of   the   prairie   and   his   fate 
caused  even  the  most  hardened  of  us  to  shudder  as  we  con- 
templated it.    After  getting  fairly  rested  we  proceeded  on  our 
journey  north  and  were  soon  out  of  the  Indian  Territory, 
though  we  often  met  small  bands  of  roving  bucks,  but  aside 
from  exchanging  a  few  shots  at  each  other  they  caused  us  no 
trouble.     We  crossed  Kansas  and  Nebraska  and  reached  the 
end  of  our  long  journey  without  further  incident  worthy  of 
note,  and  we  delivered  our  herd  only  five  head  short  which  was 


64  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

not  bad  considering  the  distance  we  had  travelled  and  the 
events  that  had  happened.  It  was  a  wonder  that  we  had  been 
able  to  get  through  with  half  of  our  herd  or  men.  Conse- 
quently it  was  with  genuine  relief  that  we  turned  the  cattle 
over  to  their  new  owners  and  received  our  receipt  therefor. 
We  remained  at  the  Mitchell  ranch  in  Wyoming  several  days, 
fraternizing  with  our  northern  brothers,  swapping  yarns  and 
having  a  good  time  generally.  On  the  return  journey  to 
Arizona  we  were  of  course,  able  to  make  better  time  and  we 
returned  more  direct  by  way  of  Colorado  and  Utah,  taking 
note  of  the  cattle  trails  and  the  country  over  which  we  passed. 
In  that  way  we  secured  valuable  information  of  the  trails  and 
the  country  that  stood  us  in  good  stead  in  future  trips  north. 
Arriving  home  at  the  Pete  Gallinger  ranch,  in  Arizona,  we 
became  the  heroes  of  the  range,  and  we  received  unstinted 
praise  from  our  boss,  but  the  loss  of  Cal  Surcey  was  universal- 
ly regretted. 

We  were  relieved  of  all  duty  until  we  got  thoroughly 
rested  up,  while  our  horses  had  the  best  the  ranch  afforded. 
But  at  a  large  cattle  ranch  there  is  always  something  doing 
and  it  was  not  long  before  we  were  again  in  the  saddle  and 
preparing  for  another  trip  on  the  trail.  To  the  cow  boy  ac- 
customed to  riding  long  distances,  life  in  the  saddle  ceases 
to  be  tiresome.  It  is  only  the  dull  monotony  of  following  a 
large  herd  of  cattle  on  the  trail  day  after  day  that  tires  the 
rider  and  makes  him  long  for  something  to  turn  up  in  the  way 
of  excitement.  It  does  not  matter  what  it  is  just  so  it  is  ex- 
citement of  some  kind.  This  the  cow  boy  finds  in  dare-devil 
riding,  shooting,  roping  and  such  sports  when  he  is  not  en- 
gaged in  fighting  Indians  or  protecting  his  herds  from  the  or- 
ganized bands  of  white  cattle  thieves  that  infested  the  cattle 
country  in  those  days.  It  was  about  this  time  that  I  hired 
to  Bill  Montgomery  for  a  time  to  assist  in  taking  a  band  of 
nine  hundred  head  of  horses  to  Dodge  City.  The  journey 
out  was  without  incident,  on  arriving  at  Dodge  City  we  sold 
the  horses  for  a  good  price  returning  to  the  old  ranch  in  Ari- 
zona by  the  way  of  the  old  lone  and  lonesome  Dodge  City  trail. 
While  en  route  home  on  this  trail  we  had  a  sharp  fight  with 


DEADWOOD  DICK  65 

the  Indians.  When  I  saw  them  coming  I  shouted  to  my  com- 
panions, "We  will  battle  them  to  hell !"  Soon  we  heard  their 
yells  as  they  charged  us  at  full  speed.  We  met  them  with  a 
hot  fire  from  our  Winchesters,  but  as  they  were  in  such  large 
numbers  we  saw  that  we  could  not  stop  them  that  way  and  it 
soon  developed  into  a  hand  to  hand  fight.  My  saddle  horse 
was  shot  from  under  me ;  at  about  the  same  time  my  partner 
James  Holley  was  killed,  shot  through  the.  heart.  I  caught 
Holley's  horse  and  continued  the  fight  until  it  became  evident 
that  the  Indians  were  too  much  for  us,  then  it  became  a 
question  of  running  or  being  scalped.  We  thought  it 
best  to  run  as  we  did  not  think  we  could  very 
well  spare  any  hair  at  that  particular  time,  any  way  we  mostly 
preferred  to  have  our  hair  cut  in  the  regular  way  by  a  com- 
petent barber,  not  that  the  Indians  would  charge  us  too  much, 
they  would  have  probably  done  the  jpb  for  nothing,  but  we 
didn't  want  to  trouble  them,  and  we  did  not  grudge  the  price 
of  a  hair  cut  any  way,  so  we  put  spurs  to  our  horses  and  they 
soon  carried  us  out  of  danger.  Nearly  every  one  of  us  were 
wounded  in  this  fight  but  Holley  was  the  only  man  killed  on 
our  side  though  a  few  of  the  Indians  were  made  better  as  the 
result  of  it.  WTe  heard  afterwards  that  Holley  was  scalped  and 
his  body  filled  with  arrows  by  the  red  devils.  This  was 
only  one  of  the  many  similar  fights  we  were  constantly  having 
with  the  Indians  and  the  cattle  thieves  of  that  part  of  the 
country.  They  were  so  common  that  it  was  not  considered 
worth  mentioning  except  when  we  lost  a  man,  as  on  this  oc- 
casion. This  was  the  only  trouble  we  had  on  this  trip  of  any 
importance  and  we  soon  arrived  at  the  Montgomery  ranch 
in  Texas  where  after  a  few  days  rest  with  the  boys,  resting  up, 
I  made  tracks  in  the  direction  of  my  own  crib  in  Arizona. 


CHAPTER  X. 

WE  MAKE  A  TRIP  TO  NEBRASKA.  THE  HOLE  IN 
THE  WALL  COUNTRY.  A  LITTLE  SHOOTING 
SCRAPE.  CATTLE  ON  THE  TRAIL  AND  THE  WAY 
TO  HANDLE  THEM.  A  BIT  OF  MORALIZATION. 

The  ranch  boss's  voice  rang  out  sharply,  but  kindly  as  he 
entered  our  quarters  where  we  were  engaged  in  all  sorts  of 
occupations,  some  of  the  boys  playing  cards,  others  smoking 
and  swapping  stories,  while  those  more  industrious  were  dili- 
gently engaged  in  cleaning  their  forty-fives.  I  glanced  up 
from  my  long  barreled  rifle  I  was  just  putting  the  finishing 
touches  to,  wondering  what  was  up  now.  The  boss  informed 
us  that  we  were  to  take  another  herd  of  cattle  north,  away  up 
in  the  northwestern  part  of  Nebraska,  and  that  all  of  us  who 
were  on  the  last  trip  had  been  selected  for  the  duty  again 
this  trip.  This  announcement  was  met  with  exclamations  of 
approval  from  the  boys  who  had  now  got  thoroughly  rested 
up  and  were  anxious  for  regular  duty  again.  Since  our  return 
from  Wyoming  we  had  not  been  doing  much,  but  taking  it 
easy  with  occasional  range  riding  and  were  becoming  rusty 
in  consequence.  We  were  to  start  on  our  second  journey 
north  this  season  as  soon  as  possible,  so  we  lost  no  time  in 
getting  ready.  We  were  to  take  the  same  size  herd  as  before. 
It  did  not  take  us  long  to  round  the  herd  up  and  the  second 
day  from  the  time  we  received  the  order  we  were  off..  Our 
route  was  different  this  time,  starting  from  the  home  ranch 
in  Arizona  we  went  by  way  of  New  Mexico,  Colorado  and  into 
Nebraska,  by  way  of  the  Platte  river,  which  we  crossed  near 
where  the  forks  of  the  North  and  South  Platte  unite.  It  was 
now  late  in  the  season  and  we  had  to  hurry  in  order  to  get 
through  in  good  weather,  therefore  we  put  the  cattle  to  the 
limit  of  their  traveling  powers.  Beef  cattle,  that  is,  four  year 
old  long  horns  differ  greatly  from  other  cattle  in  their  travel. 
The  first  day  after  being  put  out  on  the  trail  they  will  travel 


DEAD'WOOD  DICK  67 

twenty-five  miles  without  any  trouble  then  as  the  pace  begins 
to  tell  on  them  they  fall  back  to  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  a  day, 
and  there  also  seems  to  be  an  understanding  among  the  cattle 
themselves  that  each  must  take  a  turn  at  leading  the  herd, 
those  that  start  in  the  lead  in  the  morning  will  be  away  back 
in  the  center  of  the  herd  at  noon,  and  those  that  started 
in  the  center  are  now  leading.  This  they  keep  up  until  all 
have  had  their  turn  at  leading  and  as  a  rule  if  they  are  not 
scared  by  something  they  will  stay  pretty  well  bunched.  We 
allowed  the  herd  to  graze  and  rest  during  the  night,  only 
traveling  during  the  day,  as  a  herd  of  cattle  should  never  be 
moved  off  their  grazing  ground  until  the  dew  is  off  the  grass 
because  their  feet  are  made  soft  by  the  wet  grass  and  if  they 
are  moved  onto  the  hard  trail  while  in  that  condition  sore 
heels  are  sure  to  result,  and  a  steer  with  sore  heels  cannot 

travel  and  will  have  to  be  left  behind  on  the  trail  or  the  herd 

0 

held  until  those  affected  have  recovered.  Our  saddle  horses 
travel  several  times  the  distance  that  a  herd  of  cattle  does 
on  the  trail,  as  it  is  necessary  to  ride  from  one  end  of  the  herd 
to  the  other  to  keep  them  in  line  and  headed  in  the  right  direc- 
tion. This  work  is  hard  on  the  horses  but  that  is  always 
provided  for  by  having  a  small  herd  of  horses  along  under 
the  charge  of  a  horse  rustler  as  we  called  him  and  any  of  the 
boys  could  change  his  tired  horse  for  a  fresh  one  at  any  time 
he  chose,  but  he  would  have  no  one  to  help  him  make  the 
change.  He  would  have  to  rope,  throw,  saddle  and  bridle  the 
horse  himself  without  any  assistance  whatever  from  his  com- 
panions, and  this  was  no  easy  matter  as  most  of  the  horses 
were  wild  Texas  mustangs  and  had  never  had  the  saddle  on 
more  than  once  or  twice  and  so  as  often  happened  the  cow 
boy  would  be  led  a  hard  life  before  he  finally  made  the  change 
of  mounts.  On  such  occasions  he  always  received  the  un- 
welcome and  unasked  advice  of  the  other  boys,  but  as  most 
of  the  boys  were  expert  at  that  business  there  was  slight  chance 
for  railing  and  chaff.  But  if  for  any  reason  he  should  get  the 
laugh  from  his  companions  he  always  took  it  in  the  same  spirit 
in  which  it  was  given,  only  waiting  his  chance  to  get  even, 
and  such  a  chance  was  not  long  in  coming.  This  particular 
herd  acted  very  well  and  gave  us  no  trouble  to  speak  of.  Our 


DEADWOOD  DICK  69 

route  lay  over  the  old  Hays'  and  Elsworth  trail,  one  of  the  best 
known  cattle  trails  in  the  west,  then  by  way  of  Olga,  Nebraska, 
at  that  time  a  very  small  and  also  a  very  tough  place.  It  was  a 
rendezvous  of  the  tough  element  and  the  bad  men  of  the  cow 
country.  There  were  a  large  number  of  cow  boys  there  from 
the  surrounding  ranges  and  the  place  looked  very  enticing  to 
our  tired  and  thirsty  crowd,  but  we  had  our  herd  to  look  after 
and  deliver  so  we  could  not  stop,  but  pushed  on  north  crossing 
the  Platte  river,  then  up  the  trail  that  led  by  the  hole  in  the 
wall  country,  near  which  place  we  went  into  camp.  Then  as 
now  this  hole  in  the  wall  country  was  the  refuge  of  the  train 
robbers,  cattle  thieves  and  bandits  of  the  western  country,  and 
when  we  arrived  the  place  was  unusually  full  of  them,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  trouble  was  brewing  between  our 
men  and  the  natives  which  culminated  in  one  of  our  men 
shooting  and  killing  one  of  the  bad  men  of  the  hole.  Fearing 
more  trouble  and  not  being  in  the  best  possible  shape  to  meet 
it,  burdened  as  we  were  with  five  hundred  head  of  cattle  we 
broke  camp  at  once  and  proceeded  on  our  journey  north. 
We  arrived  at  the  ranch  where  our  herd  were  to  be  delivered 
without  further  incident  and  with  all  our  cattle  intact  and  after 
turning  the  herd  over  to  their  new  owners  and  spending 
several  days  in  getting  acquainted  with  our  northern  neigh- 
bors, the  Nebraska  cowboys  whom  we  found  hot  numbers 
and  a  jolly  all  round  crowd  of  cattle  men,  we  left  for  Arizona 
on  the  return  journey  by  way  of  Wyoming,  Colorado  and  New 
Mexico,  arriving  home  in  good  shape  late  in  the  fall  without 
further  incident,  and  were  soon  engaged  in  range  riding  over 
our  own  ranges  again,  and  getting  everything  in  shape  for 
the  winter,  but  we  had  to  be  out  on  the  range  off  and  on  all 
winter.  Then  in  the  spring  came  the  usual  round  ups,  cut- 
tings and  brandings,  during  which  time  all  our  men  were 
needed  at  the  home  ranch.  I  had  long  since  developed  into 
a  first  class  cow  boy  and  besides  being  chief  brand  reader 
in  Arizona  and  the  pan  handle  country.  My  expertness  in 
riding,  roping  and  in  the  general  routine  of  the  cow  boy's 
life,  including  my  wide  knowledge  of  the  surrounding  coun- 
try, gained  in  many  long  trips  with  herds  of  cattle  and  horse?. 


70  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

made  my  services  in  great  demand  and  my  wages  in- 
creased accordingly.  To  see  me  now  you  would  not  recognize 
the  bronze  hardened  dare  devil  cow  boy,  the  slave  boy  who  a 
few  years  ago  hunted  rabbits  in  his  shirt  tail  on  the  old 
plantation  in  Tennessee,  or  the  tenderfoot  who  shrank  shaking 
all  over  at  the  sight  of  a  band  of  painted  Indians.  I  had  long 
since  felt  the  hot  sting  of  the  leaden  bullet  as  it  plowed  its 
way  through  some  portion  of  my  anatomy.  Likewise  I  had 
lost  all  sense  of  fear,  and  while  I  was  not  the  wild  blood  thirsty 
savage  and  all  around  bad  man  many  writers  have  pictured 
me  in  their  romances,  yet  I  was  wild,  reckless  and  free,  afraid 
of  nothing,  that  is  nothing  that  I  ever  saw,  with  a  wide  know- 
ledge of  the  cattle  country  and  the  cattle  business  and  of  my 
guns  with  which  I  was  getting  better  acquainted  with  every 
day,  and  not  above  taking  my  whiskey  straight  or  returning 
bullet  for  bullet  in  a  scrimmage.  I  always  had  been  reck- 
less, as  evidenced  by  my  riding  of  Black  Highwayman  on  the 
old  home  plantation  and  I  never  lost  courage  or  my  nerve  un- 
der the  most  trying  circumstances,  always  cool,  observant  and 
ready  for  what  might  turn  up,  made  me  liked  and  respected  by 
my  employers  and  those  of  the  cattle  kings  of  the  western 
country  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  and  know.  On  our  own 
ranch,  among  my  own  companions  my  position  was  as  high  as 
a  king,  enjoying  the  trust  and  confidence  of  my  employers 
and  the  homage  of  the  men  many  of  whom  were  indebted  to 
me  on  occasions  when  my  long  rope  or  ever  ready  forty-five 
colt  pistol  had  saved  them  from  serious  injury  or  death.  But  I 
thought  nothing  of  those  things  then,  my  only  ambition  was  to 
learn  the  business  and  excel  in  all  things  connected  with  the 
cow  boy's  life  that  I  was  leading  and  for  which  I  had  genuine 
liking.  Mounted  on  my  favorite  horse,  my  long  horsehide  lariat 
near  my  hand,  and  my  trusty  guns  in  my  belt  and  the  broad 
plains  stretching  away  for  miles  and  miles,  every  foot  of 
which  I  was  familiar  with,  I  felt  I  could  defy  the  world.  What 
man  with  the  fire  of  life  and  youth  and  health  in  his  veins 
could  not  rejoice  in  such  a  life?  The  fall  and  winter  of  1874 
passed  on  the  Arizona  ranch  without  any  unusual  occurrence, 
the  cattle  wintered  well  and  prospects  were  bright  for  the  com- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  71 

ing  year.  In  the  early  spring  we  again  began  preparing  for  the 
big  round  up,  the  brandings  and  the  cuttings.  There  had 
been  hundreds  of  calves  and  colts  added  to  the  vast  herds, 
these  all  had  -to  be  cut  out  and  branded,  while  all  the  cattle 
that  had  strayed  during  the  winter  had  to  be  rounded  up  and 
accounted  for.  This  work  kept  us  in  the  saddle  the  greater 
part  of  the  time.  Sometimes  we  would  be  absent  for  days  and 
weeks  at  a  time  on  the  trail  of  a  bunch  of  strayed  cattle.  On 
these  trips  we  often  encountered  big  herds  of  buffalo  and 
these  supplied  us  with  meat,  and  such  meat !  A  buffalo  steak 
fresh  from  a  still  quivering  buffalo  broiled  over  coals  is  a  dish 
fit  for  the  Gods.  Coming  back  from  one  of  these  trips  after 
strays  early  in  1875  we  were  notified  to  get  ready  to  take  a. 
herd  of  five  hundred  head  of  horses  up  in  South  Dakota,  the 
trip  was  a  long  one  but  horses  can  travel  much  faster  than 
cattle  and  on  the  whole  are  much  easier  to  handle.  On  the 
trails  we  were  all  happy  at  the  prospect  of  the  trip  and  were 
not  long  in  getting  ready  and  getting  the  horses  started  out  on 
the  trail,  we  took  them  by  way  of  New  Mexico,  Colorado  and 
Nebraska.  They  gave  us  very  little  trouble  on  the  way  up, 
and  we  reached  our  destination  and  delivered  them  without  in- 
cident worthy  of  note,  returning  by  way  of  Wyoming,  Colo- 
rado and  New  Mexico.  On  starting  out  on  the  return  journey 
we  came  down  Fold  creek  and  stopped  at  the  old  log  saloon  to 
get  a  drink,  that  being  the  first  place  where  we  could  get  any 
whiskey.  Here  in  moving  around  among  the  large  number 
of  cow  boys  and  tough  characters,  generally,  another  fuss 
was  started  between  our  men  and  some  cattle  rustlers  result- 
ing in  some  shooting,  but  fortunately  without  serious  conse- 
quences. As  we  were  not  looking  for  trouble,  and  not  wishing 
to  kill  any  one  we  left  at  once  for  home.  It  was  our  policy  to 
always  avoid  trouble  if  possible  while  on  these  trips,  but  to 
always  defend  ourselves  and  our  rights  against  all  comers, 
be  they  white  men  or  Indians  and  then  it  would  look  bad 
for  us  to  have  to  report  the  loss  of  a  man  or  so  in  a  saloon  fight 
when  we  were  sent  out  to  attend  to  business,  for  that  reason 
we  did  not  stop  to  give  an  exhibition  of  our  fighting  qualities, 
although  we  were  very  anxious  to  have  matters  out  with  them. 
We  arrived  home  safely  with  all  well  and  in  time  to  assist  in 
the  round  ups  and  the  other  ranch  work  in  which  we  were 
needed. 


CHAPTER  XL 

A  BUFFALO  HUNT.  I  LOSE  MY  LARIAT  AND  SAD- 
DLE. I  ORDER  A  DRINK  FOR  MYSELF  AND 
MY  HORSE.  A  CLOSE  PLACE  IN  O'LD  MEXICO. 

When  there  was  not  much  doing  around  the  ranch,  we 
boys  would  get  up  a  buffalo  hunt.  Buffaloes  were  plentiful  in 
those  days  and  one  did  not  have  to  ride  far  before  striking  a 
herd.  Going  out  on  the  open  plain  we  were  not  long  in  sighting 
a  herd,  peacefully  grazing  on  the  luxuriant  grass,  and  it  would 
have  been  an  easy  task  to  shoot  them  but  that  was  not  our 
idea  of  sport.  In  the  first  place  it  was  too  easy.  Then  to  shoot 
them  would  rob  the  hunt  of  all  element  of  danger  and  ex- 
citement, for  that  reason  we  prepared  to  rope  them  and  then 
dispatch  them  with  the  knife  or  revolver.  As  soon  as  the 
herd  caught  sight  of  us  they  promptly  proceeded  to  stampede 
and  were  off  like  the  wind.  We  all  had  pretty  good  mounts 
and  we  started  in  pursuit.  It  is  a  grand  sight  to  see  a  large 
herd  of  several  thousand  buffalo  on  a  stampede,  all  running 
with  their  heads  down  and  their  tongues  hanging  out  like  a 
yard  of  red  flannel,  snorting  and  bellowing  they  crowd  along, 
shaking  the  ground  for  yards  around.  We  soon  reached  the 
rear  of  the  herd  and  began  operations.  I  had  roped  and  dis- 
patched several,  when  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  mag- 
nificent bull  buffalo,  which  I  made  up  my  mind  to  get, 
running  free  behind  the  herd.  My  buffalo  soon  came  within 
range  and  my  rope  settled  squarely  over  his  horns  and  my 
horse  braced  himself  for  the  strain  but  the  bull  proved  too 
much  for  us.  My  horse  was  knocked  down,  the  saddle 
snatched  from  under  me  and  off  my  horse's  back  and  my  neck 
nearly  broken  as  I  struck  the  hardest  spot  in  that  part  of  Texas 
After  I  got  through  counting  the  stars  not  to  mention  the 
moons  that  I  could  see  quite  plainly,  I  jumped  to  my  feet  and 
after  assuring  myself  that  I  was  all  there  I  looked  for  my  horse, 
he  was  close  by  just  getting  up  while  in  the  distance  and  fast 


DEADWOOD  DICK  73 

growing  more  distant  each  moment  was  my  favorite  saddle 
flying  in  the  breeze,  hanging  to  the  head  of  '-the  infuriated  buf- 
falo. 

Now  I  did  not  think  I  could  very  well  lose  that  saddle 
so  I  sprang  on  my  horse's  bare  back  and  started  in  pursuit. 
My  horse  could  run  like  a  deer  and  his  hard  fall  did  not  seem 
to  affect  him  much,  so  it  did  not  take  us  long  to  overtake 
the  plunging  herd.  Running  my  horse  close  up  by  the  side  of 
the  thief  who  stole  my  saddle,  I  placed  the  muzzle  of  my  forty- 
five  close  against  his  side  and  right  there  I  took  charge  of  Mr. 
Buffalo  and  my  outfit. 

It  was  no  trouble  to  get  all  the  buffalo  meat  we  wanted 
in  those  days,  all  that  was  necessary  was  to  ride  out  on  the 
prairie  and  knock  them  over  with  a  bullet,  a  feat  that  any  cow 
boy  can  accomplish  without  useless  waste  of  ammunition, 
and  a  running  buffalo  furnishes  perhaps  the  best  kind  of  a 
moving  target  for  practice  shooting.  And  the  man  that  can 
drop  his  buffalo  at  two  hundred  yards  the  first  shot  can  hit 
pretty  much  anything  he  shoots  at. 

I  never  missed  anything  I  shot  at  within  this  distance 
and  many  a  time  when  I  thought  the  distance  of  an  object 
was  too  great,  the  boys  have  encouraged  me  by  saying, 
shoot,  you  never  miss,  and  as  much  to  my  surprise  as  theirs, 
my  old  stand  by  placed  the  bullet  where  I  aimed. 

I  early  in  my  career  recognized  the  fact  that  a  cow  boy 
must  know  how  to  use  his  guns,  and  therefore  I  never  lost  an 
opportunity  to  improve  my  shooting  abilities,  until  I  was  able 
to  hit  anything  within  range  of  my  forty-five  or  my  Winchester. 
This  ability  has  times  without  number  proved  of  incalculable 
value  to  me,  when  in  tight  places.  It  has  often  saved  the  life 
of  myself  and  companions  and  so  by  constant  practice  I  soon 
became  known  as  the  best  shot  in  the  Arizona  and  pan  handle 
country. 

After  the  buffalo  hunt  we  were  sent  down  in  Old  Mexico 
to  get  a  herd  of  horses,  that  our  boss  had  bought  from  the 
Mexicans  in  the  southwestern  par1,  of  Old  Mexico.  We  made 
the  journey  out  all  right  without  special  incident,  but  after 
we  had  got  the  horses  out  on  the  trail,  headed  north  I  was  pos- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  75 

sessed  with  a  desire  to  show  off  and  I  thought  surprise  the 
staid  old  greasers  on  whom  we  of  the  northern  cattle  country 
looked  with  contempt.  So  accordingly  I  left  the  boys  to  con- 
tinue with  the  herd,  while  I  made  for  the  nearest  saloon,  which 
happened  to  be  located  in  one  of  the  low  mud  houses  of  that 
country,  with  a  wide  door  and  clay  floor.  As  the  door  was 
standing  open,  and  looked  so  inviting  I  did  not  want  to  go 
to  the  trouble  of  dismounting  so  urging  my  horse  forward,  I 
rode  in  the  saloon,  first  however,  scattering  with  a  few  random 
shots  the  respectable  sized  crowd  of  dirty  Mexicans  hanging 
around  as  I  was  in  no  humor  to  pay  for  the  drinks  for  such 
a  motley  gathering.  Riding  up  to  the  bar,  I  ordered  keller 
for  myself  and  a  generous  measure  of  pulky  for  my  horse, 
both  popular  Mexican  drinks. 

The  fat  wobbling  greaser  who  was  behind  the  bar  looked 
scared,  but  he  proceeded  to  serve  us  with  as  much  grace  as 
he  could  command.  My  forty-five  colt  which  I  proceeded  to 
reload,  acting  as  a  persuader.  Hearing  a  commotion  outside 
I  realized  that  I  was  surrounded.  The  crowd  of  Mexican  bums 
had  not  appreciated  my  kindly  greeting  as  I  rode  up  and  it 
seems  did  not  take  kindly  to  being  scattered  by  bullets.  And 
not  realizing  that  I  could  have  killed  them  all,  just  as  easy 
as  I  scattered  them,  and  seeing  there  was  but  two  of  us — I 
and  my  horse — they  had  summoned  sufficient  courage  to  come 
back  and  seek  revenge.  There  was  a  good  sized  crowd  of  them, 
every  one  with  some  kind  of  shooting  iron,  and  I  saw  at  once 
that  they  meant  business.  I  hated  to  have  to  hurt  some  of 
them  but  I  could  see  I  would  have  to  or  be  taken  myself,  and 
perhaps  strung  up  to  ornament  a  telegraph  pole.  This  pleas- 
ant experience  I  had  no  especial  wish  to  try,  so  putting  spurs 
to  my  horse  I  dashed  out  of  the  saloon,  then  knocking  a  man 
over  with  every  bullet  from  my  Colts  I  cut  for  the  open  coun- 
try, followed  by  several  volleys  from  the  angry  Mexicans'  pop 
guns. 

The  only  harm  their  bullets  did,  however,  was  to  wound 
my  horse  in  the  hip,  not  seriously,  however,  and  he  carried  me 
quickly  out  of  range.  I  expected  to  be  pursued,  however,  as 
I  had  no  doubt  I  had  done  for  some  of  those  whom  I  knocked 


DEADWOOD  DICK  77 

over,  so  made  straight  for  the  Rio  Grande  river  riding  day  and 
night  until  I  sighted  that  welcome  stream  and  on  the  other  side 
I  knew  I  was  safe.  Crossing  the  Rio  Grande  and  entering  Texas 
at  the  Eagle  pass,  I  rode  straight  to  the' old  home  ranch  where 
I  stayed  resting  up  until  the  boys  got  the  horses  out  of  Mexico 
into  Texas,  then  I  joined  them  and  assisted  in  driving  the 
horses  into  the  ranch.  I  congratulated  myself  that  I  escaped 
so  easily  and  with  such  little  damage.  It  was  certainly  a  close 
place  but  I  have  been  in  even  closer  places  numbers  of  times 
and  always  managed  to  escape.  Either  through  -trick,  the 
fleetness  of  my  horse  or  my  shooting  and  sometimes  through 
all  combined.  At  this  time  I  was  known  all  over  the  cattle 
country  as  "Red  River  Dick,"  the  name  given  to  me  by  the 
boss  of  the  Duval  outfit,  when  I  first  joined  the  cow  boys  at 
Dodge  City,  Kansas. 

And  many  of  the  cattle  kings  of  the  west  as  well  as  the 
Indians  and  scores  of  bad  men  all  over  the  western  country 
have  at  some  time  or  other  had  good  reason  to  remember  the 
name  of  "Red  River  Dick." 

This  was  in  1875.  I*  was  not  till  the  next  year  that  I  won 
the  name  of  "Deadwood  Dick,"  a  name  I  made  even  better 
known  than  "Red  River  Dick."  And  a  name  I  was  proud  to 
carry  and  defend,  if  necessary,  with  my  life.  This  season  we 
made  several  trips  North.  The  horses  we  brought  up  from 
Texas  now  had  to  be  driven  to  old  man  Keith's  in  Nebraska, 
on  the  North  Platte  river.  On  this  trip  we  had  no  trouble 
to  speak  of.  Several  bands  of  Indians  showed  up  at  different 
times  but  a  shot  or  so  from  one  of  the  boys  would  send  them 
scurrying  off  at  full  speed,  without  stopping  to  sample  further 
our  fighting  abilities. 

This  was  in  some  ways  disappointing  to  us  as  we  were 
spoiling  for  a  fight  or  excitement  of  some  kind.  However, 
nothing  turned  up,  so  after  delivering  the  horses  to  their  new 
owners,  we  made  tracks  for  home  again.  It  was  the  same 
round  of  duties,  season  after  season,  but  all  our  trips  on  the 
trail  were  not  by  any  means  alike,  we  were  continually  visit- 
ing new  country  and  new  scenes,  traveling  over  trails  new 
to  us,  but  old  in  history.  Many  of  these  old  trails  are  now 
famous  in  history. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  79 

Each  trip  gave  us  new  experiences,  and  traveling  so  much 
as  we  were,  there  were  few  oufits  in  the  cattle  country  that 
knew  the  trails  and  the  country  as  we  did.  And  we  were 
continually  adding  to  this  knowledge  and  experience.  After 
returning  from  old  man  Keith's  in  Nebraska  we  had  to  take  the 
trail  again  with  a  herd  of  cattle  for  the  Spencer  brothers, 
whose  ranch  was  located  just  north  of  the  Red  Light  about 
sixty-five  miles  north  of  the  bad  lands  in  South  Dakota.  This 
was  one  of  the  largest  cattle  ranches  in  the  West. 

Their  brand  was  known  as  the  R  Box  Circle  Brand. 
There  we  remained  for  some  time,  adding  to  our  knowledge 
of  the  cattle  business  such  things  as  can  only  be  learned  at 
a  large  cattle  ranch.  On  our  way  home  we  passed  through 
Laramie,  Wyoming.  As  fate  would  have  it,  we  arrived  at 
Laramie  City  on  July  4,  1875,  Just-  as  tne  notorious  Jack 
Watkins  escaped  from  the  Albany  county  jail,  and  the  excite- 
ment in  the  town  was  at  fever  heat.  Jack  Watkins,  who 
was  probably  the  most  desperate  criminal  that  was  ever 
placed  behind  prison  bars,  had  been  arrested  and  placed  in 
close  confinement,  as  the  officers  of  the  western  states  had 
long  tried  to  effect  his  capture.  And  they  did  not  want  to 
take  any  chances  of  losing  him,  now  they  had  him,  but  for 
all  their  caution  he  had  escaped,  shooting  Deputy  Sheriff 
Lawrence  in  the  leg,  crippling  him  for  life. 

Ex-Conductor  Brophy  was  at  that  time  sheriff.  The 
officers  noting  our  arrival  at  such  time,  at  once  ordered  us 
out  of  the  city,  as  they  suspected  we  knew  something  about 
the  outbreak.  We  protested  our  innocence  of  any  knowledge 
of  the  trouble.  But  appearances  were  against  us,  so  we  had 
to  leave,  going  direct  to  Cheyenne,  Wyoming.  Here  we  dis- 
posed of  a  small  band  of  horses  our  boss  had  along,  and 
which  we  did  not  wish  to  take  back  home  with  us.  They 
were  sold  to  the  Swarn  Brothers  at  a  good  price. 

We  remained  in  Cheyenne  until  the  i8th  of  July,  when 
we  left  for  Texas,  arriving  at  the  old  Pali  Dora  range  ranch 
on  the  loth  of  August.  We  had  no  more  than  got  rested 
up  before  we  were  again  called  out  on  active  duty.  The  many 
large  cattle  owners  of  the  panhandle  country  had  got  to- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  81 

gether  and  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  wild  mustang 
horses,  large  bands  of  which  were  running  wild  over  the 
Arizona  and  Texas  plains,  would  make  good  cattle  horses, 
and  to  that  end  a  plan  of  campaign  was  arranged,  whereby 
they  could  be  captured,  and  broken  in  and  put  to  some  use, 
instead  of  causing  damage  to  the  range,  as  at  present. 


CHAPTER  XTL 

THE  BIG  WILD  MUSTANG  HUNT  WE  TIRE  THEM 
OUT  THE  INDIANS  CAPTURE  OUR  MESS  WA- 
GON AND  COOK.  OUR  BILL  OF  FARE  BUFFALO 
MEAT  WITHOUT  SALT. 

It  was  a  bright  clear  morning  in  September  as  we  were 
all  gathered  at  the  old  home  ranch,  prepared  to  start  on  the 
great  mustang  hunt.  There  was  one  of  the  best  men  from 
each  of  the  big  cattle  ranges  in  the  panhandle  and  Arizona 
country,  making  twenty  of  the  best  range  riders  ever  assem- 
bled together  for  a  single  purpose,  while  we  were  mounted  on 
the  best  and  fastest  horses  the  Texas  and  Arizona  cattle 
country  could  produce,  while  a  horse  rustler  had  left  four  days 
before  with  twenty  more  equally  as  good  horses,  giving  each 
of  us  two  horses  apiece.  We  carried  with  us  four  days'  ra- 
tions, consisting  of  dried  beef,  crackers,  potatoes,  coffee — we 
had  no  sugar.  The  mess  wagon  well  stocked  with  provisions 
for  a  two  months'  trip  had  also  left  four  days  before  for  a  place 
in  the  wild  horse  district,  where  we  knew  the  mustangs  were 
to  be  found. 

Many  of  the  cattle  men  of  Texas  and  Arizona  were  pres- 
ent to  see  us  off,  and  the  boss  gave  us  a  little  talk  on  what 
was  expected  of  us,  and  said,  among  other  things,  we  were 
twenty  of  the  best  and  gamest  cow  boys  who  ever  roamed 
the  western  plains,  and  that  he  knew  we  would  make  good 
on  hearing  these  words — we  one  and  all  resolved  to  do  our 
best. 

And  swinging  into  the  saddle  we  emptied  our  guns  as  a 
parting  salutation  and  started  on  a  dead  run  across  the 
plains  towards  the  scene  of  our  duty.  After  a  hard  ride  of 
ten  days  we  sighted  a  band  of  about  seventy-five  mustangs. 
We  at  once  proceeded  to  run  them  down.  It  was  decided 
that  twenty  of  us  should  surround  the  herd  in  a  large  circle, 
ten  or  fifteen  miles  across,  which  would  leave  a  space  of  sev- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  83 

eral  miles  between  each  rider,  but  not  of  a  greater  distance 
than  he  could  easily  cover  when  he  saw  the  band  coming 
his  way  or  heard  our  signals. 

The  horse  rustler  was  to  keep  the  extra  horses  at  a  place 
where  they  would  be  safe  and  at  the  same  time  handy  to  the 
riders.  Our  plans  completed,  each  rider  made  preparations 
to  start  for  his  station.  But.  here  another  difficulty  arose. 
We  had  not  yet  seen  anything  of  our  cook  and  mess  wagon. 
It  had  not  arrived  at  the  place  agreed  upon,  although  it  had 
had  ample  time  to  do  so.  Our  provisions  which  we  carried 
were  quite  low,  so  after  waiting  as  long  as  we  could,  and 
the  mess  wagon  failing  to  show  up,  we  decided  to  start  the 
hunt  and  take  our  chances  on  grub  from  what  we  could  knock 
over  with  our  guns. 

Accordingly  the  boys  all  started  out  for  their  several 
stations.  After  waiting  a  reasonable  length  of  time  to  give 
them  an  opportunity  to  reach  their  positions,  we  made 
for  the  herd,  which  as  near  as  we  could  judge  contained 
about  seventy-five  of  the  prettiest  horses  it  was  ever  my 
pleasure  to  see.  The  magnificent  stallion  who  happened  to 
be  on  guard  had  no  sooner  seen  us  than  he  gave  the  danger 
signal  to  the  herd,  who  were  off  like  the  wind,  led  by  a  beau- 
tiful snow  white  stallion.  To  get  them  going  was  our  only 
duty  at  present,  and  we  well  knew  the  importance  of  saving 
our  saddle  horses  for  the  more  serious  work  before  us.  There- 
fore we  only  walked  our  horses,  or  went  on  a  dog  trot, 
keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  the  herd's  return. 

The  band  of  wild  horses  would  run  ten  or  fifteen  miles 
across  the  prairie,  where  they  would  catch  sight  of  the  other 
boys,  then  off  they  would  go  in  another  direction,  only  to 
repeat  the  performance,  as  they  struck  the  other  side  of  the 
circle.  In  this  way  they  would  make  from  fifty  to  sixty  miles 
to  our  ten,  and  we  were  slowly  working  them  down.  We  kept 
them  going  this  way  day  and  night,  not  giving  them  a  mo- 
ment's rest  or  time  to  eat.  After  keeping  them  on  the  go  this 
way  for  ten  days  we  were  able  to  get  within  a  mile  of  them 
and  could  see  some  of  the  stallions  taking  turns  at  leading  the 
herd,  while  other  stallions  would  be  in  the  rear  fighting  them 


.s 


I 

bfl 


DEADWOOD  DICK  85 

on.  In  a  few  days  more  we  were  near  enough  to  begin  shoot- 
ing the  stallions  out  of  the  herd.  Then  we  could  handle  them 
a  great  deal  better.  At  this  time  our  want  of  grub  began  to 
tell  on  us.  Our  cook  and  mess  wagon  had  not  showed  up,  so 
we  had  long  since  given  them  up  as  lost.  We  believed  they 
had  been  captured  by  the  Indians  and  future  events  proved 
we  were  right. 

Our  only  food  consisted  of  buffalo  meat  of  which  we 
were  able  to  secure  plenty,  but  buffalo  meat  for  breakfast, 
dinner  and  supper  every  day  without  bread  or  salt  is  not  the 
most  palatable  bill  of  fare,  especially  when  it  is  all  we  had  day 
after  day,  without  any  prospect  of  a  change  until  we  got 
home.  But  we  were  game  and  resolved  to  stay  with  our  work 
until  it  was  finished,  especially  as  we  only  had  twenty  men 
and  everyone  was  badly  needed  in  the  work  ahead  of  us,  so  we 
did  not  think  we  could  spare  a  man  to  return  home  after 
grub.  So  we  swallowed  our  buffalo  meat  day  after  day  and 
kept  the  horses  moving. 

They  were  now  pretty  well  worked  down,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded to  work  them  toward  a  place  where  we  could  begin  to 
rope  them.  There  were  now  only  a  few  stallions  left  in  the 
herd  as  we  had  shot  nearly  all  of  them,  and  the  others  were 
too  tired  to  cause  us  any  trouble.  We  had  now  been  out  of 
grub  over  three  weeks  except  buffalo  meat  and  such  other 
game  as  we  could  bring  down  with  our  guns.  Our  fears  that 
the  cook  and  mess  wagon  had  been  captured  by  the  Indians 
proved  well  founded,  as  we  about  this  time  met  an  outfit 
who  had  seen  the  place  where  the  cook  was  killed.  They 
said  the  surroundings  indicated  that  quite  a  large  band  had 
surprised  the  cook  and  driver,  but  that  they  had  put  up  a 
brave  fight  as  evidenced  by  the  large  number  of  empty  rifle 
and  revolver  shells  scattered  around.  Our  first  impulse  after 
hearing  this  was  to  start  in  pursuit  of  the  red  skins  and  get 
revenge,  but  calmer  judgment  showed  that  such  a  course 
would  be  useless,  because  the  Indians  had  a  couple  of  weeks' 
start  of  us  and  we  did  not  know  what  tribe  had  committed 
the  offense  as  there  wer  so  many  Indians  in  that  part  of 
the  country  and  in  the  Indian  territory,  and  besides  our  horses 


86  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES   OF 

were  in  no  shape  to  chase  Indians,  so  much  to  our  regret  our 
comrades  had  to  go  unrevenged  at  least  for  the  present,  but  we 
all  swore  to  make  the  Indians  pay  dearly,  especially  the  guilty 
ones,  if  it  were  possible  to  discover  who  they  were.  We 
continued  to  work  the  mustangs  back  and  forth,  and  in  thirty 
days  from  the  time  we  started  out  we  had  about  sixty  head 
hemmed  up  in  Yellow  Fox  Canyon  and  were  roping  and  rid- 
ing them.  They  were  not  hard  to  handle  as  they  were  so  poor 
some  of  them  could  hardly  walk.  This  was  not  to  be  won- 
dered at,  as  we  had  kept  them  on  the  go  for  the  past  thirty 
days,  never  once  giving  them  a  moment's  rest  day  or  night, 
and  in  that  time  they  had  very  little  to  eat  and  no  sleep.  After 
roping  and  riding  them  all  we  got  them  together  and  headed 
for  home. 

Arriving  at  the  ranch  the  mustangs  were  allowed  to  eat 
all  they  wanted  and  were  roped  and  ridden  until  they  were 
fairly  well  broken,  when  they  were  turned  out  with  the  other 
ranch  horses.  They  proved  good  saddle  horses,  but  as  soon 
as  they  were  turned  out  with  the  ranch  horses  they  would 
start  for  their  old  feeding  grounds,  leading  the  other  horses 
with  them.  We  found  it  impossible  to  thoroughly  domesti- 
cate them,  so  for  that  reason  we  gave  them  up  as  a  bad 
proposition,  and  did  not  attempt  to  capture  any  more, "though 
at  that  time  thousands  of  wild  mustangs  were  on  the  plains 
of  Texas,  Arizona,  Wyoming  and  in  fact  all  over  the  West. 
They  were  large,  fine  and  as  pretty  a  lot  of  horses  as  one 
could  wish  to  see.  They  were  seldom  molested,  though  once 
in  a  while  the  Indians  would  make  a  campaign  against  them 
and  capture  a  few,  but  not  often,  as  they  were  so  hard  to  cap- 
ture. It  was  not  worth  the  trouble,  as  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  approach  them  nearer  than  two  miles,  and  there  was  always 
some  stallions  on  the  lookout  while  the  others  grazed  over 
the  plains,  so  it  was  out  of  the  question  to  surprise  them. 
At  the  first  sign  of  danger  the  stallion  sentinel  would  give  his 
shrill  neigh  of  warning  and  the  herd  were  off  like  the  wind. 

We  received  unstinted  praise  from  our  employers  for 
bringing  to  a  successful  conclusion  the  errand  on  which  we 
were  sent  under  such  trying  circumstances.  But  now  that  we 


DEADWOOD  DICK  87 

were  where  grub  was  plentiful  we  looked  on  our  experience 
as  nothing  to  make  a  fuss  over. 

But  we  deeply  regretted  the  loss  of  our  cook  and  mess 
wagon,  and  we  resolved  that  if  we  ever  found  the  guilty 
parties  to  make  it  rather  warm  for  them.  This  we  never 
did,  .neither  did  we  ever  hear  more  of  the  fate  of  the  cook. 
Our  work,  so  far  as  trips  on  the  trail  were  concerned,  was 
over  for  this  season,  and  we  could  count  on  a  long  rest  until 
spring,  as  aside  from  range  riding  and  feeding  there  was 
nothing  doing  around  the  home  ranch.  But  sometimes  the 
range  riding  kept  us  on  the  go  pretty  lively,  especially  dur- 
ing and  after  a  big  storm,  which  sometimes  scattered  the 
cattle  all  over  the  surrounding  country,  and  it  would  take 
some  lively  riding  to  get  them  all  together  again.  Then  the 
Indians  and  the  white  cattle  thieves  would  make  raids  on 
our  herds,  running  them  off  in  great  numbers  and  stampeding 
the  balance  of  the  herd. 

This  generally  resulted  in  us  chasing  them  sometimes  for 
miles  over  the  prairies,  and  we  generally  were  successful  in 
recovering  our  cattle  and  punishing  the  cattle  thieves  in  a 
manner  that  they  did  not  soon  forget.  But  then  again  some- 
times they  would  stampede  the  herd  in  the  night,  and  under 
the  cover  of  darkness  and  the  excitement  would  manage  to 
make  off  with  some  of  the  best  horses  or  the  choicest  cattle, 
and  by  the  time  we  missed  them  the  thieves  would  have 
such  a  start  that  it  was  impossible  to  overtake  them,  but  if 
they  were  overtaken,  vengeance  was  swift  and  sure. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

ON  THE  TRAIL  WITH  THREE  THOUSAND  HEAD  OF 
TEXAS  STEERS.  RUMORS  OF  TROUBLE  WITH 
THE  INDIANS  AT  DEADWOOD.  THE  ROPING 
CONTEST.  I  WIN  THE  NAME  OF  DEADWOOD 
DICK.  THE  SHOOTING  MATCH.  THE  CUSTER 
MASSACRE.  THE  VIEW  OF  THE  BATTLE  FIELD. 
GOVERNMENT  SCOUTS.  AT  HOME  AGAIN. 

In  the  spring  of  1876  orders  were  received  at  the  home 
ranch  for  three  thousand  head  of  three-year-old  steers  to  be 
delivered  near  Deadwood,  South  Dakota.  This  being  one 
of  the  largest  orders  we  had  ever  received  at  one  time,  every 
man  around  the  ranch  was  placed  on  his  mettle  to  execute 
the  order  in  record  time. 

Cow  boys  mounted  on  swift  horses  were  dispatched  to 
the  farthest  limits  of  the  ranch  with  orders  to  round  up  and 
run  in  all  the  three-year-olds  on  the  place,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  ranch  corrals  began  to  fill  up  with  the  long 
horns  as  they  were  driven  by  the  several  parties  of  cow 
boys;  as  fast  as  they  c?.me  in  we  would  cut  out,  under  the 
bosses'  orders  such  cattle  as  were  to  make  up  our  herd. 

In  the  course  of  three  days  we  had  our  herd  ready  for 
the  trail  and  we  made  our  preparations  to  start  on  our  long 
journey  north.  Our  route  lay  through  New  Mexico,  Colorado 
and  Wyoming,  and  as  we  had  heard  rumors  that  the  Indians 
were  on  the  war  path  and  were  kicking  up  something  of 
a  rumpus  in  Wyoming,  Indian  Territory  and  Kansas,  we 
expected  trouble  before  we  again  had  the  pleasure  of  sitting 
around  our  fire  at  the  home  ranch.  Quite  a  large  party 
was  selected  for  this  trip  owing  to  the  size  of  the  herd 
and  the  possibility  of  trouble  on  the  trail  from  the  Indians. 
We,  as  usual,  were  all  well  armed  and  had  as  mounts  the 
best  horses  our  ranch  produced,  and  in  taking  the  trail  we 


DEADWOOD  DICK  9I 

were  perfectly  confident  that  we  could  take  care  of  our  herd 
and  ourselves  through  anything  we  were  liable  to  meet.  We 
had  not  been  on  the  trail  long  before  we  met  other  outfits, 
who  told  us  that  General  Custer  was  out  after  the  Indians 
and  that  a  big  fight  was  expected  when  the  Seventh  U.  S. 
Cavalry,  General  Ouster's  command,  met  the  Crow  tribe  and 
other  Indians  under  the  leadership  of  Sitting  Bull,  Rain-in- 
the-Face,  Old  Chief  Joseph,  and  other  chiefs  of  lesser  promi- 
nence, who  had  for  a  long  time  been  terrorizing  the  settlers 
of  that  section  and  defying  the  Government. 

As  we  proceeded  on  our  journey  it  became  evident  to 
us  that  we  were  only  a  short  distance  behind  the  soldiers. 
When  finally  the  Indians  and  soldiers  met  in  the  memorable 
battle  or  rather  massacre  in  the  Little  Big  Horn  Basin  on 
the  Little  Big  Horn  River  in  northern  Wyoming,  we  were 
only  two  days  behind  them,  or  within  60  miles,  but  we  did 
not  know  that  at  the  time  or  we  would  have  gone 
to  Custer's  assistance.  We  did  not  know  of  the  fight  or  the 
outcome  until  several  days  after  it  was  over.  It  was  freely 
claimed  at  the  time  by  cattle  men  who  were  in  a  position  to 
know  and  with  whom  I  talked  that  if  Reno  had  gone  to  Cus- 
ter's  aid  as  he  promised  to  do,  Custer  would  not  have  lost  his 
entire  command  and  his  life. 

It  was  claimed  Reno  did  not  obey  his  orders,  however 
that  may  be,  it  was  one  of  the  most  bloody  massacres  in  the 
history  of  this  country.  We  went  on  our  way  to  Deadwood 
with  our  herd,  where  we  arrived  on  the  3rd  of  July,  1876, 
eight  days  after  the  Custer  massacre  took  place 

The  Custer  Battle  was  June  25,  '76,  the  battle  commenced 
on  Sunday  afternoon  and  lasted  about  two  hours.  That  was 
the  last  of  General  Custer  and  his  Seventh  Cavalry.  How  I 
know  this  so  well  is  because  we  had  orders  from  one  of  the 
Government  scouts  to  go  in  camp,  that  if  we  went  any  farther 
North  we  were  liable  to  be  captured  by  the  Indians. 

We  arrived  in  Deadwood  in  good  condition  without  hav- 
ing had  any  trouble  with  the  Indians  on  the  way  up.  We 
turned  our  cattle  over  to  their  new  owners  at  once,  then 
proceeded  to  take  in  the  town.  The  next  morning,  July  4th, 
the  gamblers  and  mining  men  made  up  a  purse  of  $200  for  a 
roping  contest  between  the  cow  boys  that  were  then  in  town, 
and  as  it  was  a  holiday  nearly  all  the  cow  boys  for  miles 
around  were  assembled  there  that  day.  It  did  not  take  long 
to  arrange  the  details  for  the  contest  and  contestants,  six  of 


il 


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S 


DEADWOOD  DICK  93 

them  being  colored  cow  boys,  including  myself.  Our  trail  boss 
was  chosen  to  pick  out  the  mustangs  from  a  herd  of  wild 
horses  just  off  the  range,  and  he  picked  out  twelve  of  the  most 
wild  and  vicious  horses  that  he  could  find. 

The  conditions  of  the  contest  were  that  each  of  us  who 
were  mounted  was  to  rope,  throw,  tie,  bridle  and  saddle  and 
mount  the  particular  horse  picked  for  us  in  the  shortest  time 
possible.  The  man  accomplishing  the  feat  in  the  quickest 
time  to  be  declared  the  winner. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  horse  chosen  for  me  was  the 
most  vicious  of  the  lot.  Everything  being  in  readiness,  the 
"45"  cracked  and  we  all  sprang  forward  together,  each  of  us 
making  for  our  particular  mustang. 

I  roped,  threw,  tied,  bridled,  saddled  and  mounted  my 
mustang  in  exactly  nine  minutes  from  the  crack  of  the  gun 
The  time  of  the  next  nearest  competitor  was  twelve  minutes 
and  thirty  seconds.  This  gave  me  the  record  and  champion- 
ship of  the  West,  which  I  held  up  to  the  time  I  quit  the  busi- 
ness in  1890,  and  my  record  has  never  been  beaten.  It  is  worth} 
of  passing  remark  that  I  never  had  a  horse  pitch  with  me  so 
much  as  that  mustang,  but  I  never  stopped  sticking  my  spurs 
in  him  and  using  my  quirt  on  his  flanks  until  I  proved  his 
master.  Right  there  the  assembled  crowd  named  me  Dead- 
wood  Dick  and  proclaimed  me  champion  roper  of  the  western 
cattle  country. 

The  roping  contest  over,  a  dispute  arose  over  the  shooting 
question  with  the  result  that  a  contest  was  arranged  for  the 
afternoon,  as  there  happened  to  be  some  of  the  best  shots 
with  rifle  and  revolver  in  the  West  present  that  day.  Among 
them  were  Stormy  Jim,  who  claimed  the  championship;  Pow- 
der Horn  Bill,  who  had  the  reputation  of  never  missing  what 
he  shot  at;  also  White  Head,  a  half  breed,  who  generally  hit 
what  he  shot  at,  and  many  other  men  who  knew  how  to  handle 
a  rifle  or  45-colt. 

The  range  was  measured  off  100  and  250  yards  for  the  rifle 
and  150  for  the  Colt  45.  At  this  distance  a  bulls  eye  about  the 
size  of  an  apple  was  put  up.  Each  man  was  to  have  14  shots 
at  each  range  with  the  rifle  and  12  shots  with  the  Colts  45. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  95 

I  placed  every  one  of  my  14  shots  with  the  rifle  in  the 
bulls  eye  with  ease,  all  shots  being  made  from  the  hip; 
but  with  the  45  Colts  I  missed  it  twice,  only  placing  10 
shots  in  the  small  circle,  Stormy  Jim  being  my  nearest 
competitor,  only  placing  8  bullets  in  the  bulls  eye  clear, 
the  rest  being  quite  close,  while  with  the  45  he  placed 
5  bullets  in  the  charmed  circle.  This  gave  me  the  champion- 
ship of  rifle  and  revolver  shooting  as  well  as  the  roping  con- 
test, and  for  that  day  I  was  the  hero  of  Deadwood,  and  the 
purse  of  $200  which  I  had  won  on  the  roping  contest  went 
toward  keeping  things  moving,  and  they  did  move  as 
only  a  large  crowd  of  cattle  men  can  move  things.  This 
lasted  for  several  days  when  most  of  the  cattle  men  had  to 
return  to  their  respective  ranches,  as  it  was  the  busy  season, 
accordingly  our  outfit  began  to  make  preparations  to  return 
to  Arizona. 

In  the  meantime  news  had  reached  us  of  the  Custer 
massacre,  and  the  indignation  and  sorrow  was  universal,  as 
General  Custer  was  personally  known  to  a  large  number  of 
the  cattle  men  of  the  West.  But  we  could  do  nothing  now, 
as  the  Indians  were  out  in  such  strong  force.  There  was 
nothing  to  do  but  let  Uncle  Sam  revenge  the  loss  of  the 
General  and  his  brave  command,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  not  one 
of  us  would  have  hesitated  a  moment  in  taking  the  trail  in 
pursuit  of  the  blood  thirsty  red  skins  had  the  opportunity 
offered. 

Everything  now  being  in  readiness  with  us  we  took  the 
trail  homeward  bound,  and  left  Deadwood  in  a  blaze  of 
glory.  On  our  way  home  we  visited  the  Custer  battle  field 
in  the  Little  Big  Horn  Basin. 

There  was  ample  evidence  of  the  desperate  and  bloody 
fight  that  had  taken  place  a  few  days  before.  We  arrived 
home  in  Arizona  in  a  short  time  without  further  incident, 
except  that  on  the  way  back  we  met  and  talked  with  many 
of  the  famous  Government  scouts  of  that  region,  among 
them  Buffalo  Bill  (William  F.  Cody),  Yellow  Stone  Kelley, 
and  many  others  of  that  day,  some  of  whom  are  now  living, 
while  others  lost  their  lives  in  the  line  of  duty,  and  a  finer 


The    Roping    Contest   at    Deadwood,  S.  D. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  97 

or  braver  body  of  men  never  lived  than  these  scouts  of  the 
West.  It  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  Buffalo  Bill  often  in  the 
early  705,  and  he  was  as  fine  a  man  as  one  could  wish  to 
meet,  kind,  generous,  true  and  brave. 

Buffalo  Bill  got  his  name  from  the  fact  that  in  the  early 
days  he  was  engaged  in  hunting  buffalo  for  their  hides  and 
furnishing  U.  P.  Railroad  graders  with  meat,  hence  the  name 
Buffalo  Bill.  Buffalo  Bill,  Yellowstone  Kelley,  with  many 
others  were  at  this  time  serving  under  Gen.  C.  C.  Miles. 

The  name  of  Deadwood  Dick  was  given  to  me  by  the  peo- 
ple of  Deadwood,  South  Dakota,  July  4,  1876,  after  I  had 
proven  myself  worthy  to  carry  it,  and  after  I  had  defeated  all 
comers  in  riding,  roping,  and  shooting,  and  I  have  always 
carried  the  name  with  honor  since  that  time. 

We  arrived  at  the  home  ranch  again  on  our  return  from 
the  trip  to  Deadwood  about  the  middle  of  September,  it 
taking  us  a  little  over  two  months  to  make  the  return  journey, 
as  we  stopped  in  Cheyenne  for  several  days  and  at  other  places, 
where  we  always  found  a  hearty  welcome,  especially  so  on  this 
trip,  as  the  news  had  preceded  us,  and  I  received  enough  at- 
tention to  have  given  me  the  big  head,  but  my  head  h.ad 
constantly  refused  to  get  enlarged  again  ever  since  the  time 
I  sampled  the  demijohn  in  the  sweet,  corn  patch  at  home. 

Arriving  at  home,  we  received  a  send  off  from  our  boss 
and  our  comrades  of  the  home  ranch,  every  man  of  whom  on 
hearing  the  news  turned  loose  his  voice  and  his  artillery 
in  a  grand  demonstration  in  my  honor. 

But  they  said  it  was  no  surprise  to  them,  as  they  had 
long  known  of  my  ability  with  the  rope,  rifle  and  45  Colt, 
but  just  the  same  it  was  gratifying  to  know  I  had  defeated  the 
best  men  of  the  West,  and  brought  the  record  home  to  the 
home  ranch  in  Arizona.  After  a  good  rest  we  proceeded 
to  ride  the  range  again,  getting  our  herds  in  good  condition 
for  the  winter  now  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

RIDING  THE  RANGE.  THE  FIGHT  WITH  YELLOW 
DOG'S  TRIBE.  I  AM  CAPTURED  AND  ADOPTED 
BY  THE  INDIANS.  MY  ESCAPE.  I  RIDE  A  HUN- 
DRED MILES  IN  TWELVE  HOURS  WITHOUT 
A  SADDLE.  MY  INDIAN  PONY.  "YELLOW 
DOG  CHIEF."  THE  BOYS  PRESENT  ME  WITH  A 
NEW  OUTFIT.  IN  THE  SADDLE  AND  ON  THE 
TRAIL  AGAIN. 

It  was  a  bright,  clear  fall  day,  October  4,  1876,  that  quite 
a  large  number  of  us  boys  started  out  over  the  range  hunting 
strays  which  had  been  lost  for  some  time.  We  had  scattered 
over  the  range  and  I  was  riding  along  alone  when  all  at  once 
I  heard  the  well  known  Indian  war  whoop  and  noticed  not 
far  away  a  large  party  of  Indians  making  straight  for  me. 
They  were  all  well  mounted  and  they  were  in  full  war  paint, 
which  showed  me  that  they  were  on  the  war  path,  and  as  I 
was  alone  and  had  no  wish  to  be  scalped  by  them  I  decided  to 
run  for  it.  So  I  headed  for  Yellow  Horse  Canyon  and  gave 
my  horse  the  rein,  but  as  I  had  considerable  objection  to 
being  chased  by  a  lot  of  painted  savages  without  some  re- 
monstrance, I  turned  in  my  saddle  every  once  in  a  while  and 
gave  them  a  shot  by  way  of  greeting,  and  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  a  painted  brave  tumble  from  his  horse  and  go 
rolling  in  the  dust  every  time  my  rifle  spoke,  and  the  Indians 
were  by  no  means  idle  all  this  time,  as  their  bullets  were 
singing  around  me  rather  lively,  one  of  them  passing  through 
my  thigh,  but  it  did  not  amount  to  much.  Reaching  Yellow 
Horse  Canyon,  I  had  about  decided  to  stop  and  make  a  stand 
when  one  of  their  bullets  caught  me  in  the  leg,  passing  clear 
through  it  and  then  through  my  horse,  killing  him.  Quickly 
falling  behind  him  I  used  his  dead  body  for  a  breast  work 
and  stood  the  Indians  off  for  a  long  time,  as  my  aim.  was 


DEADWOOD  DICK  99 

so  deadly  and  they  had  lost  so  many  that  they  were  careful 
to  keep  out  of  range. 

But  finally  my  ammunition  gave  out,  and  the  Indians 
were  quick  to  find  this  out,  and  they  at  once  closed  in  on 
me,  but  I  was  by  no  means  subdued,  wounded  as  I  was  and 
almost  out  of  my  head,  and  I  fought  with  my  empty  gun 
until  finally  overpowered.  When  I  came  to  my  senses  I  was 
in  the  Indians'  camp. 

My  wounds  had  been  dressed  with  some  kind  of  herbs, 
the  wound  in  my  breast  just  over  the  heart  was  covered 
thickly  with  herbs  and  bound  up.  My  nose  had  been  nearly 
cut  off,  also  one  of  my  fingers  had  been  nearly  cut  off.  These 
wounds  I  received  when  I  was  fighting  my  captors  with 
my  empty  gun.  What  caused  them  to  spare  my  life  I  cannot 
tell,  but  it  was  I  think  partly  because  I  had  proved  myself  a 
brave  man,  and  all  savages  admire  a  brave  man  and  when  they 
captured  a  man  whose  fighting  powers  were  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary they  generally  kept  him  if  possible  as  he  was  needed 
in  the  tribe. 

Then  again  Yellow  Dog's  tribe  was  composed  largely 
of  half  breeds,  and  there  was  a  large  percentage  of  colored 
blood  in  the  tribe,  and  as  I  was  a  colored  man  they  wanted 
to  keep  me,  as  they  thought  I  was  too  good  a  man  to  die.  Be 
that  as  it  may,  they  dressed  my  wounds  and  gave  me  plenty  to 
eat,  but  the  only  grufo  they  had  was  buffalo  meat  which  they 
cooked  over  a  fire  of  buffalo  chips,  but  of  this  I  had  all  I 
wanted  to  eat.  For  the  first  two  days  after  my  capture 
they  kept  me  tied  hand  and  foot.  At  the  end  of  that  time 
they  untied  my  feet,  but  kept  my  hands  tied  for  a  couple  of 
days  longer,  when  I  was  given  my  freedom,  but  was  always 
closely  watched  by  members  of  the  tribe.  Three  days  after 
my  capture  my  ears  were  pierced  and  I  was  adopted  into 
the  tribe.  The  operation  of  piercing  my  ears  was  quite  pain- 
ful, in  the  method  used,  as  they  had  a  small  bone  secured 
from  a  deer's  leg,  a  small  thin  bone,  rounded  at  the  end  and  as 
sharp  as  a  needle.  This  they  used  to  make  the  holes,  then 
strings  made  from  the  tendons  of  a  deer  were  inserted  in 
place  of  thread,  of  which  the  Indians  had  none.  Then  horn 


==-  "^  ,-V^\»  'Of 


DEADWOOD  DICK  101 

ear  rings  were  placed  in  my  ears  and  the  same  kind  of  salve 
made  from  herbs  which  they  placed  on  my  wounds  was 
placed  on  my  ears  and  they  soon  healed. 

The  bullet  holes  in  my  leg  and  breast  also  healed  in  a 
surprisingly  short  time.  That  was  good  salve  all  right. 
As  soon  as  I  was  well  enough  I  took  part  in  the  Indian 
dances.  One  kind  or  another  was  in  progress  all  the  time. 
The  war  dance  and  the  medicine  dance  seemed  the  most 
popular.  When  in  the  war  dance  the  savages  danced  around 
me  in  a  circle,  making  gestures,  chanting,  with  every  now 
and  then  a  blood  curdling  yell,  always  keeping  time  to  a 
sort  of  music  provided  by  stretching  buffalo  skins  tightly 
over  a  hoop. 

When  I  was  well  enough  I  joined  the  dances,  and  I  think 
I  soon  made  a  good  dancer.  The  medicine  dance  varies  from 
the  war  dance  only  that  in  the  medicine  dance  the  Indians 
danced  around  a  boiling  pot,  the  pot  being  filled  with 
roots  and  water  and  they  dance  around  it  while  it  boils.  The 
medicine  dance  occurs  about  daylight. 

I  very  soon  learned  their  ways  and  to  understand  them, 
though  our  conversation  was  mostly  carried  on  by  means 
of  signs.  They  soon  gave  me  to  understand  that  I  was  to 
marry  the  chiefs  daughter,  promising  me  100  ponies  to  do 
so,  and  she  was  literally  thrown  in  my  arms-;  as  for  the  lady 
she  seemed  perfectly  willing  if  not  anxious  to  become  my 
bride.  She  was  a  beautiful  woman,  or  rather  girl;  in  fact  all 
the  squaws  of  this  tribe  were  good  looking,  out  of  the  ordi- 
nary, but  I  had  other  notions  just  then  and  did  not  want  to 
get  married  under  such  circumstances,  but  for  prudence 
•sake  I  seemed  to  enter  into  their  plans,  but  at  the  same  time 
keeping  a  sharp  lookout  for  a  chance  to  escape.  I  noted 
where  the  Indians  kept  their  horses  at  night,  even  picking 
out  the  handsome  and  fleet  Indian  pony  which  I  meant  to 
use  should  opportunity  occur,  and  I  seemed  to  fall  in  with 
the  Indians'  plans  and  seemed  to  them  so  contented  that  they 
gave  me  more  and  more  freedom  and  relaxed  the  strict  watch 
they  had  kept  on  me,  and  finally  in  about  thirty  days  from 
the  time  of  my  capture  my  opportunity  arrived. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  103 

My  wounds  were  now  nearly  well,  and  gave  me  no 
trouble.  It  was  a  dark,  cloudy  night,  and  the  Indians,  grown 
careless  in  their  fancied  security,  had  relaxed  their  watchful- 
ness. After  they  had  all  thrown  themselves  on  the  ground 
and  the  quiet  of  the  camp  proclaimed  them  all  asleep  I  got  up 
and  crawling  on  my  hands  and  knees,  using  the  greatest 
caution  for  fear  of  making  a  noise,  I  crawled  about  250 
yards  to  where  the  horses  were  picketed,  and  going  to  the 
Indian  pony  I  had  already  picked  out  I  slipped  the  skin 
thong  in  his  mouth  which  the  Indians  use  for  a  bridle,  one 
which  I  had  secured  and  carried  in  my  shirt  for  some  time 
for  this  particular  purpose,  then  springing  to  his  back  I  made 
for  the  open  prairie  in  the  direction  of  the  home  ranch  in 
Texas,  one  hundred  miles  away.  All  that  night  I  rode  as  Cast 
as  my  horse  could  carry  me  and  the  next  morning,  twelve 
hours  after  I  left  the  Indians  camp  I  was  safe  on  the  home 
ranch  again.  And  my  joy  was  without  bounds,  and  such  a  re- 
ception as  I  received  from  the  boys.  They  said  they  were  just 
one  day  late,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  a  fight  they  had  with 
some  of  the  same  tribe,  they  would  have  been  to  my  relief.  As 
it  was  they  did  not  expect  to  ever  see  me  again  alive.  But 
that  they  know  that  if  the  Indians  did  not  kill  me,  and  gave 
me  only  half  a  chance  I  would  get  away  from  them,  but  now 
that  I  was  safe  home  again,  nothing  mattered  much  and  noth- 
ing was  too  good  for  me. 

It  was  a  mystery  to  them  how  I  managed  to  escape  death 
with  such  wounds  as  I  had  received,  the  marks  of  which  I 
will  carry  to  my  grave  and  it  is  as  much  a  mystery  to  me  as 
the  bullet  that  struck  me  in  the  breast  just  over  the  heart 
passed  clear  through,  coming  out  my  back  just  below  the 
shoulder.  Likewise  the  bullet  in  my  leg  passed  clear  through, 
then  through  my  horse,  killing  him. 

Those  Indians  are  certainly  wonderful  doctors,  and  then 
I  am  naturally  tough  as  I  carry  the  marks  of  fourteen  bullet 
wounds  on  different  part  of  my  body,  most  any  one  of  which 
would  be  sufficient  to  kill  an  ordinary  man,  but  I  am  not  even 
crippled.  It  seems  to  me  that  if  ever  a  man  bore  a  charm  I 
am  the  man,  as  I  have  had  five  horses  shot  from  under  me  and 


io4  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

killed,  have  fought  Indians  and  Mexicans  in  all  sorts  of  situa- 
tions, and  have  been  in  more  tight  places  than  I  can  number. 
Yet  I  have  always  managed  to  escape  with  only  the  mark  of  a 
bullet  or  knife  as  a  reminder.  The  fight  with  the  Yellow 
Dog's  tribe  is  probably  the  closest  call  I  ever  had,  and  as  close 
a  call  as  I  ever  want. 

The  fleet  Indian  pony  which  carried  me  to  safety  on  that 
memorable  hundred  mile  ride,  I  kept  for  about  five  years.  I 
named  him  "The  Yellow  Dog  Chief."  And  he  lived  on  the 
best  the  ranch  afforded,  until  his  death  which  occurred  in 
1881,  never  having  anything  to  dp  except  an  occasional  race, 
as  he  could  run  like  a  deer.  I  thought  too  much  of  him  to  use 
him  on  the  trail  and  he  was  the  especial  pet  of  every  one  on 
the  home  ranch,  and  for  miles  around. 

I  heard  afterwards  that  the  Indians  persued  me  that  night 
for  quite  a  distance,  but  I  had  too  much  the  start  and  besides 
I  had  the  fastest  horse  the  Indians  owned.  I  have  never  since 
met  any  of  my  captors  of  that  time.  As  they  knew  better 
than  to  venture  in  our  neighborhood  again.  My  wound  healed 
nicely,  thanks  to  the  good  attention  the  Indians  gave  me.  My 
captors  took  everything  of  value  I  had  on  me  when  captured. 
My  rifle  which  I  especially  prized  for  old  associations  sake; 
also  my  forty  fives,  saddle  and  bridle,  in  fact  my  whole  outfit 
leaving  me  only  the  few  clothes  I  had  on  at  the  time. 

.My  comrades  did  not  propose  to  let  this  bother  me  long, 
however,  because  they  all  chipped  in  and  bought  me  a 
new  outfit,  including  the  best  rifle  and  revolvers  that  could 
be  secured,  and  I  had  my  pick  of  the  ranch  horses  for  another 
mount.  During  my  short  stay  with  the  Indians  I  learned  a 
great  deal  about  them,  their  ways  of  living,  sports,  dances, 
and  mode  of  warfare  which  proved  of  great  benefit  to  me  in 
after  years.  The  oblong  shields  they  carried  were  made  from 
tanned  buffalo  skins  and  so  tough  were  they  made  that  an 
arrow  would  not  pierce  them  although  I  have  seen  tl.<M:  sh-jot 
an  arrow  clean  through  a  buffalo.  Neither  will  a  bullet  pierce 
them  unless  the  ball  hits  the  shield  square  on,  otherwise  it 
glances  off. 

All  of  them  were  exceedingly  expert  with  the  bow  and  ar- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  105 

row,  and  they  are  proud  of  their  skill  and  are  always  practic- 
ing in  an  effort  to  excel  each  other.  This  rivalry  extends 
even  to  the  children  who  are  seldom  without  their  bows  an-' 
arrows. 

They  named  me  Buffalo  Papoose,  and  we  managed  to  make 
our  wants  known  by  means  of  signs.  As  I  was  not  with  them 
a  sufficient  length  of  time  to  learn  their  language,  I  learned 
from  them  that  I  had  killed  five  of  their  number  and  wounded 
three  while  they  were  chasing  me  and  in  the  subsequent  fight 
with  my  empty  gun.  The  wounded  men  were  hit  in  many 
places,  but  they  were  brought  around  all  right,  the  same  as  I 
v/as.  After  my  escape  and  after  I  arrived  home  it  was  some 
time  before  I  was  again  called  to  active  duty,  as  the  boys 
would  not  hear  of  me  doing  anything  resembling  work,  until 
I  was  thoroughly  well  and  rested  up.  But  I  soon  began  to 
long  for  my  saddle  and  the  range. 

And  when  orders  were  received  at.  the  ranch  for  2000  head 
of  cattle,  to  be  delivered  at  Dodge  City,  Kansas,  I  insisted 
on  taking  the  trail  again.  It  was  not  with  any  sense  of  pride 
or  in  bravado  that  I  recount  here  the  fate  of  the  men  who  have 
fallen  at  my  hand. 

It  is  a  terrible  thing  to  kill  a  man  no  matter  what  the  cause. 
But  as  I  am  writing  a  true  history  of  my  life,  I  cannot  leave 
these  facts  out.  But  every  man  who  died  at  my  hands  was 
either  seeking  my  life  or  died  in  open  warfare,  when  it  was  a 
case  of  killing  of  being  killed. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ON  A  TRIP  TO  DODGE  CITY,  KAN.  I  ROPE  ONE  OF 
UNCLE  SAM'S  CANNON.  CAPTURED  BY  THE  SOL- 
DIERS. BAT  MASTERSON  TO  MY  RESCUE.  LOST 
ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  THE  BUFFALO  HUNTER 
CATER.  MY  HORSE  GETS  AWAY  AND  LEAVES 
ME  ALONE  ON  THE  PRAIRIE.  THE  BLIZZARD. 
FROZEN  STIFF. 

In  the  spring  of  1877,  now  fully  recovered  from  the  effects 
of  the  very  serious  wounds  I  had  received  at  the  hands  of  the 
Indians  and  feeling  my  old  self  again,  I  joined  the  boys  in 
their  first  trip  of  the  season,  with  a  herd  of  cattle  for  Dodge 
City.  The  trip  was  uneventful  until  we  reached  our  destina- 
tion. This  was  the  first  time  I  had  been  in  Dodge  City  since  I 
had  won  the  name  of  "DEADWOOD  DICK",  and  many  of 
the  boys,  who  knew  me  when  I  first  joined  the  cow  boys 
there  in  1869,  were  there  to  greet  me  now.  After  our  herd  had 
been  delivered  to  their  new  owners,  we  started  out  to  properly 
celebrate  the  event,  and  for  a  space  of  several  days  we  kept 
the  old  town  on  the  jump. 

And  so  when  we  finally  started  for  home  all  of  us  had 
more  or  less  of  the  bad  whiskey  of  Dodge  City  under  our  belts 
and  were  feeling  rather  spirited  and  ready  for  anything. 

I  probably  had  more  of  the  bad  whiskey  of  Dodge  City 
than  any  one  and  was  in  consequence  feeling  very  reckless, 
but  we  had  about  exhausted  our  resources  of  amusement  in 
the  town,  and  so  were  looking  for  trouble  on  the  trail  home. 

On  our  way  back  to  Texas,  our  way  led  past  old  Fort 
Dodge.  Seeing  the  soldiers  and  the  cannon  in  the  fort,  a  bright 
idea  struck  me,  but  a  fool  one  just  the  same.  It  was  no  less 
than  a  desire  to  rope  one  of  the  cannons.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
il  would  be  a  good  thing  to  rope  a  cannon  and  take  it  back 
to  Texas  with  us  to  fight  Indians  with. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  107 

The  bad  whiskey  whidh  I  carried  under  my  belt  was  re- 
sponsible for  the  fool  idea,  and  gave  me  the  nerve  to  attempt 
to  execute  the  idea.  Getting  my  lariat  rope  ready  I  rode  to  a 
position  just  opposite  the  gate  of  the  fort,  which  was  standing 
open.  Before  the  gate  paced  a  sentry  with  his  gun  on  his 
shoulder  and  his  white  gloves  showing  up  clean  and  white 
against  the  dusty  grey  surroundings.  I  waited  until  the  sentry 
had  passed  the  gate,  then  putting  spurs  to  my  horse  I  dashed 
straight  for  and  through  the  gate  into  the  yard.  The  sur- 
prised sentry  called  halt,  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  him.  Mak- 
ing for  the  cannon  at  full  speed  my  rope  left  my  hand  and  set- 
tled square  over  the  cannon,  then  turning  and  putting  spurs 
to  my  horse  I  tried  to  drag  the  cannon  after  me,  but  strain  as 
he  might  my  horse  was  unable  to  budge  it  an  inch.  In  the 
meantime  the  surprised  sentry  at  the  gate  had  given  the  alarm 
and  now  I  heard  the  bugle  sound,  boots  and  saddles,  and 
glancing  around  I  saw  the  soldiers  mounting  to  come  after  me, 
and  finding  I  could  not  move  the  cannon,  I  rode  close  up  to  it 
and  got  my  lariat  off  then  made  for  the  gate  again  at  full 
speed.  The  guard  jumped  in  front  of  me  with  his  gun  up, 
calling  halt,  but  I  went  by  him  like  a  shot,  expecting  to  hear 
the  crack  of  his  musket,  but  for  some  reason  he  failed  to  fire 
on  me,  and  I  made  for  the  open  prairie  with  the  cavalry  in  hot 
pursuit. 

My  horse  could  run  like  a  wild  deer,  but  he  was  no  match 
for  the  big,  strong,  fresh  horses  of  the  soldiers  and  they  soon 
had  me.  Relieving  me  of  my  arms  they  placed  me  in  the  guard 
house  where  the  commanding  officer  came  to  see  me.  He 
asked  me  who  I  was  and  what  I  was  after  at  the  fort.  I  told 
him  and  then  he  asked  me  if  I  knew  anyone  in  the  city.  I  toid 
him  I  knew  Bat  Masterson.  He  ordered  two  guards  to  take 
me  to  the  city  to  see  Masterson.  As  goon  as  Masterson  saw 
me  he  asked  me  what  the  trouble  was,  and  before  I  could  an- 
swer, the  guards  told  him  I  rode  into  the  fort  and  roped  one  of 
the  cannons  and  tried  to  pull  it  out.  Bat  asked  me  what  I 
wanted  with  a  cannon  and  what  I  intended  doing  with  it.  I 
told  him  I  wanted  to  take  it  back  to  Texas  with  me  to  fight 
the  Indians  with ;  then  they  all  laughed.  Then  Bat  told  them 


DEADWOOD  DICK  109 

that  I  was  all  right,  the  only  trouble  being  that  I  had  too  much 
bad  whiskey  under  my  shirt.  They  said  I  .would  have  to  set 
the  drinks  for  the  house.  They  came  to  $15.00,  and  when  I 
started  to  pay  for  them,  Bat  said  for  me  to  keep  my  money 
that  he  would  pay  for  them  himself,  which  he  did.  Bat  said 
that  I  was  the  only  cowboy  that  he  liked,  and  that  his  brother 
Jim  also  thought  very  much  of  me.  I  was  then  let  go  and  I 
joined  the  boys  and  we  continued  on  our  way  home,  where 
we  arrived  safely  on  the  1st  of  June,  1877. 

We  at  once  began  preparing  for  the  coming  big  round  up. 
As  usual  this  kept  us  very  busy  .during  the  months  of  July  and 
August,  and  as  we  received  no  more  orders  for  cattle  this  sea- 
son, we  did  not  have  to  take  the  trail  again,  but  after  the  round 
up  was  over,  we  were  kept  busy  in  range  riding,  and  the  gen- 
eral all  around  work  of  the  ,big  ca'ttle  ranch.  We  had  at  this 
time  on  the  ranch  upwards  of  30,000  head  of  cattle,  our  own 
cattle,  not  to  mention  the  cattle  belonging  to  the  many  other 
interests  without  the  Pan  Handle  country,  and  as  all  these  im- 
mense herds  used  the  range  of  the  .country,  in  common  as 
there  was  no  fences  to  divide  the  ranches,  consequently  the 
cattle  belonging  to  the  different  herds  often  got  mixed  up  and 
large  numbers  of  them  strayed. 

At  the  round  ups  it  was  our  duty  to  cut  out  and  brand 
the  young  calves,  take  a  census  of  our  stock,  and  then  after  the 
round  up  was  over  we  would  start  out  to  look  for  possible 
strays.  Over  the  range  we  would  ride  through  canyons  anrj 
gorges,  and  every  place  where  it  was  possible  for  cattle  to 
stray,  as  it  was  important  to  get  them  with  the  main  herd  be- 
fore winter  set  in,  as  if  left  out  in  small  bunches  there  was 
danger  of  them  perishing  in  the  frequent  hard  storms  of  the 
winter.  While  range  riding  or  hunting  for  strays,  we  always 
carried  with  us  on  our  saddle  the  branding  irons  of  our  respec- 
tive ranches,  and  whenever  we  ran  across  a  calf  that  had  not 
been  branded  we  had  to  rope  the  calf,  tie  it,  then  a  fire  was 
^made  of  buffalo  chips,  the  only  fuel  besides  grass  to  be  found 
on  the  prairie. 

The  irons  were  heated  and  the  calf  was  branded  with  the 
brand  of  the  finder,  no  matter  who  it  personally  belonged  to. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  in 

It  now  became  the  property  of  the  finder.  The  lost  cattle  were 
then  driven  to  the  main  herd.  After  they  were  once  gotten  to- 
gether it  was  our  duty  to  keep  them  together  during  the  win- 
ter and  early  spring.  It  was  while  out  hunting  strays  that  I, 
got  lost,  the  first  and  only  time  I  was  ever  lost  in  my  life,  and 
for  four  days  I  had  an  experience  that  few  men  ever  went 
through  and  lived,  as  it  was  a  close  pull  for  me. 

I  had  been  out  for  several  days  looking  for  lost  cattle  and 
becoming  separated  from  the  other  boys  and  being  in  a  part  of 
the  country  unfamiliar  to  me.  It  was  stormy  when  I  started 
out  from  the  home  ranch  and  when  I  had  ridden  about  a  hun- 
dred miles  from  home  it  began  to  storm  in  earnest,  rain,  hail, 
sleet,  and  the  clouds  seemed  to  touch  the  earth  and  gather  in 
their  inpenterable  embrace  every  thing  thereon.  For  a  long 
time  I  rode  on  in  the  direction  of  home,  but  as  I  could  not  see 
fifty  yards  ahead  it  was  a  case  of  going  it  blind.  After  riding 
for  many  weary  hours  through  the  storm  I  came  across  a  little 
log  cabin  on  the  Palidore  river.  I  rode  up  to  within  one  hun- 
dred yards  of  it  where  I  was  motioned  to  stop  by  an  old  long 
haired  man  who  stepped  out  of  the  cabin  door  with  a  long 
buffalo  gun  on  his  arm.  It  was  with  this  he  had  motioned  me 
to  stop. 

I  promptly  pulled  up  and  raised  my  hat,  which,  according 
to  the  custom  of  the  cowboy  country,  gave  him  to  understand 
I  was  a  cowboy  from  the  western  cow  ranges.  He  then  mo- 
tioned me  to  come  on.  Riding  up  to  the  cabin  he  asked  me  to 
dismount  and  we  shook  hands. 

He  said,  when  I  saw  you  coming  I  said  to  myself  that 
must  be  a  lost  cowboy  from  some  of  the  western  cow  ranges. 
1  told  him  I  was  lost  all  right,  and  I  told  him  Who  I  was  and 
where  from.  Again  we  shook  hands,  he  saying  as  we  did  so, 
that  we  were  friends  until  we  met  again,  and  he  hoped  for- 
ever. He  then  told  me  to  picket  out  my  horse  and  come  in 
and  have  some  supper,  which  very  welcome  invitation  I  ac- 
cepted. 

His  cabin  was  constructed  of  rough  hewn  logs,  somewhat 
after  the  fashion  of  a  Spanish  block  house.  One  part  of  it  was 
constructed  under  ground,  a  sort  of  dug  out,  while  the  upper 


ii2  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES   OF 

portion^  of  the  cabin  proper  was  provided  with  many  loop 
holes,  commanding  every  direction. 

He  later  told  me  these  loop  holes  had  stood  him  in  handy 
many  a  time  when  he  had  been  .attacked  by  Indians,  in  their 
efforts  to  capture  him.  On  entering  his  cabin  I  was  amazed 
to  see  the  walls  covered  with  all  kinds  of  skins,  horns,  and 
antlers.  Buffalo  .skins  in  great  numbers  covered  the  floor  and 
bed,  .while  the  walls  were  completely  hidden  behind  the  skins 
of  every  animal  of  that  region,  including  large  number  of  rat- 
tle snakes  skins  and  many  of  their  rattles. 

His  bed,  which  was  in  one  corner  of  the  dug  out,  was  of 
skins,  and  to  me,  weary  from  my  long  ride  through  the  storm, 
seemed  to  be  the  most  comfortable  place  on  the  globe  just 
then.  He  soon  set  before  me  a  bountious  supper,  consisting 
of  buffalo  meat  and  corn  dodgers,  and  seldom  before  have  1 
enjoyed  a  meal  as  I  did  that  one.  During  supper  he  told  me 
many  of  his  experiences  in  the  western  country.  His  name 
was  Cater,  and  he  was  one  of  the  oldest  buffalo  hunters  in  that 
part  of  Texas,  having  hunted  and  trapped  over  the  wild  coun- 
try ever  since  the  early  thirties,  and  during  that  time  he  had 
many  a  thrilling  adventure  with  Indians  and  wild  animals. 

I  stayed  with  him  that  night  and  slept  soundly  on  a  com- 
fortable bed  he  made  for  me.  The  next  morning  he  gave  me 
a  good  breakfast  and  I  prepared  to  take  my  departure  as  the 
storm  had  somewhat  moderated,  and  I  was  anxious  to  get 
home,  as  the  boys  knowing  I  was  out  would  be  looking  for  me 
if  I  did  not  show  up  in  a  reasonable  time. 

My  kind  host  told  me  to  go  directly  northwest  and  I 
would  strike  the  Calones  flats,  a  place  with  which  I  was  per- 
fectly familiar.  He  said  it  was  about  75  miles  from  his  place. 
Once  there  I  would  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  my  way  home. 
Cater  put  me  up  a  <good  lunch  to  last  me  on  my  way,  and  with 
many  expressions  of  gratitude  to  him,  I  left  him  with  his  skins 
and  comfortable,  though  solitary  life.  All  that  day  and  part 
of  the  night  I  rode  in  the  direction  he  told  me,  until  about  n 
o'clock  when  I  became  so  tired  I  decided  to  go  into  camp  and 
give  my  tired  horse  a  rest  and  a  chance  to  eat.  Accordingly  I 
dismounted  and  removed  the  saddle  and  bridle  from  my  horse 


In  My  Fighting  Clothes 


DEADWOOD  DICK  113 

I  hobbled  him  and  turned  him  loose  to  graze  on  the  luxuriant 
grass,  while  I,  tired  out,  laid  down  with  my  head  on  my  saddle 
fully  dressed  as  I  was,  not  even  removing  my  belt  containing 
my  45  pistol  from  my  waist,  laying  my  Winchester  close  by. 
The  rain  had  ceased  to  fall,  but  it  was  still  cloudy  and  threat- 
ening. It  was  my  intention  to  rest  a  few  hours  then  continue 
on  my  way ;  and  as  I  could  not  see  the  stars  on  account  of  the 
clouds  and  as  it  was  important  that  I  keep  my  direction  north- 
west in  order  to  strike  the  Flats,  I  had  carefully  taken  my  di- 
lection  before  sundown,  and  now  on  moving  my  saddle  I 
placed  it  on  the  ground  pointing  in  the  direction  I  was  going 
when  I  stopped  so  that  it  would  enable  me  to  keep  my  direc- 
tion when  I  again  started  out.  I  had  been  laying  there  for 
some  time  and  my  horse  was  quietly  grazing  about  20  yards 
off,  when  I  suddenly  heard  something  squeal.  .  It  sounded  like 
a  woman's  voice.  It  frightened  my  horse  and  he  ran  for  me. 
I  jumped  to  my  feet  with  my  Winchester  in  my  hand.  This 
caused  my  horse  to  rear  and  wheel  and  I  heard  his  hobbles 
break  with  a  sharp  snap.  Then  I  heard  the  sound  of  his  gal- 
loping feet  going  across  the  Pan  Handle  plains  until  the  sound 
was  lost  in  the  distance.  Then  I  slowly  began  to  realize  that  I 
was  left  alone  on  the  plains  on  foot,  how  many  miles  from 
home  I  did  not  know.  Remembering  I  had  my  guns  all  right, 
il  was  my  impulse  to  go  in  pursuit  of  my  horse  as  I  thought  I 
could  eventually  catch  him  after  he  had  got  over  his  scare,  but 
when  I  thought  of  my  40  pound  saddle,  and  I  did  not  want  to 
leave  that,  so  saying  to  myself  that  is  the  second  saddle  I  ever 
owned,  the  other  having  been  taken  by  the  Indians  when  I  was 
captured,  and  this  saddle  was  part  of  the  outfit  presented  to 
me  by  the  boys,  and  so  tired  and  as  hungry  as  a  hawk,  I 
shouldered  my  saddle  and  started  out  in  the  direction  I  was 
going  when  I  went  into  camp,  saying  to  myself  as  I  did  so,  if 
my  horse  could  pack  me  and  my  outfit  day  and  night  I  can  at 
least  pack  my  outfit.  Keeping  my  direction  as  well  as  I  could 
I  started  out  over  the  prairie  through  the  dark,  walking  all 
that  night  and  all  the  next  day  without  anything  to  eat  or 
drink  until  just  about  sundown  and  when  I  had  begun  to  think 
1  would  have  to  spend  another  nigh't  on  the  prairie  without 


ii4  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES  OF 

food  or  drink,  when  I  emerged  from  a  little  draw  on  to  a  raise 
on  the  prairie,  then  looking  over  on  to  a  small  flat  I  saw  a 
large  herd  of  buffalo.  These  were  the  first  I  had  seen  since  I 
became  lost  and  the  sight  of  them  put  renewed  life  and  hope 
in  me  as  I  was  then  nearly  famished,  and  when  I  saw  them  I 
knew  I  had  something  to  eat. 

Off  to  one  side  about  20  yards  from  the  main  herd  and 
about  150  yards  from  me  was  a  young  calf.  Placing  my  Win- 
chester to  my  shoulder  I  glanced  along  the  shining  barrel,  but 
my  hands  shook  so  much  I  lowered  it.  again,  not  that  I  was 
afraid  of  missing  it  as  I  knew  I  was  a  dead  shot  at  that  dis- 
tance, but  my  weakness  caused  by  my  long  enforced  fast  and 
rny  great  thirst  made  my  eyes  dim  and  my  hands  shake  in  a 
way  they  had  never  done  before,  so  waiting  a  few  moments  I 
again  placed  the  gun  to  my  shoulder  and  this  time  it  spoke  and 
the  calf  dropped  where  i't  had  stood.  Picking  up  my  outfit  I 
went  down  to  where  my  supper  was  laying.  I  took  out  my 
jack  knife  and  commenced  on  one  of  his  hind  quarters.  I  be- 
gan to  skin  and  eat  to  my  hearts  content,  but  I  was  so  very 
thirsty.  I  had  heard  of  people  drinking  blood  to  quench  their 
thirst  and  that  gave  me  an  idea,  so  cutting  the  calf's  throat, 
with  my  knife  I  eagerly  drank  the  fresh  warm  blood. 

It  tasted  very  much  like  warm  sweet  milk.  It  quenched 
my  thirst  and  made  me  feel  strong,  when  I  had  eaten  all  I 
could,  I  cut  off  two  large  chunks  of  the  meat  and  tied  them  to 
my  saddle,  then  again  shouldering  the  whole  thing  I  started 
en  my  w:ay  feeling  almost  as  satisfied  as  if  I  had  my  horse  with 
me.  I  was  lost  two  days,  and  two  nights,  after  my  horse  left 
me  and  all  that  time  J  kept  walking  packing  my  40  pounds 
saddle  and  my  Winchester  and  two  cattle  pistols. 

On  the  second  night  about  daylight  the  weather  became 
more  threatening  and  I  saw  in  the  distance  a  long  column 
which  looked  like  smoke.  It  seemed  to  be  coming  towards  me 
at  .the  rate  of  a  mile  a  minute.  It  did  not  take  it  long  to  reach 
me,  and  when  it  did  I  struggled  on  for  a  few  yards  but  it  was 
no  use,  tired  as  I  was  from  packing  my  heavy  outfit  for  more 
than  48  hours  and  my  long  tramp,  I  had  not  the  strength  to 
nght  against  the  storm  so  I  had  to  come  alone.  When  I  again 


DEADWOOD  DICK  115 

came  to  myself  I  was  covered  up  head  and  foot  in  the  snow,  in 
the  camp  of  -some  of  my  comrades  from  the  ranch. 

It  seemed  from  What  I  was  told  afterwards  that  the  boys 
knowing  I  was  out  in  the  s'torm  and  failing  to  show  up,  they 
had  started  out  to  look  for  me,  they  had  gone  in  camp  during 
the  storm  and  when  the  blizzard  had  passed  they  noticed  an 
object  out  on  the  prairie  in  the  snow,  with  one  hand  frozen, 
clenched  around  my  Winchester  and  the  other  around  the 
horn  of  my  saddle,  and  they  had  hard  work  to  get  my  hands 
loose,  they  picked  me  up  and  placed  me  on  one  of  the  horses 
and  took  me  to  camp  where  they  stripped  me  of  my  clothes 
and  wrapped  me  up  in  the  snow,  all  the  skin  came  off  my  nose 
and  mouth  and  my  hands  and  feet  had  been  so  badly  frozen 
that  the  nails  all  came  off.  After  had  got  thawed  out  in  the 
mess  wagon  and  took  me  home  in  15  days  I  was  again  in  the 
saddle  ready  for  business  but  I  will  never  forget  those  few 
days  I  was  lost  and  the  marks  of  that  storm  I  will  carry  with 
me  always. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  OLD  HAZE  AND  ELS  WORTH  TRAIL.  OUR  TRIP 
TO  CHEYENNE.  EX-SHERIFF  PAT  A.  GARRET. 
THE  DEATH  OF  "BILLY  THE  KID".  THE  LINCOLN 
COUNTY  CATTLE  WAR. 

Early  the  next,  spring  1878  we  went  on  a  short  trip  to 
Junction  City,  Kan.,  with  a  small  herd  of  horses  for  Hokin 
and  Herst.  We  started  out  from  the  home  ranch  early  in 
April,  stringing  the  herd  out  along  the  old  Haze  and  Elsworth 
trail.  Everything  went  well  until  we  were  several  days  out 
and  we  had  went  in  camp  for  the  night.  The  herd  had  been 
rounded  up  and  were  grazing  in  the  open  prairie  under  the 
usual  watch.  And  all  the  cowboys  except  the  first  watch  had 
turned  in  for  a  good  night's  rest,  when  it  began  to  storm 
finally  developing  into  a  genuine  old  fashioned  Texas  storm, 
with  the  usual  result  that  the  herd  stampeded. 

The  watch  at  once  gave  the  alarm  and  we  awoke  to  find 
everything  in  confusion.  It  was  a  very  dark  night,  and  under 
such  circumstances  i't  is  hard  to  control  a  herd  of  horses  in  a 
stampede.  In  a  few  moments  every  man  was  in  the  saddle,  as 
we  always  kept  our  saddle  horses  picketed  out,  so  they  could 
not  join  the  other  horses.  And  it  was  our  custom  when  on  the 
trail  with  a  herd  of  horses  on  going  into  camp  to  leave  our 
saddle  horses,  saddled  and  bridled,  merely  loosing  the  cinches 
of  the  saddles  though  sometimes  we  removed  the  bridles,  to 
enable  them  to  graze  better.  So  when  the  alarm  was  given 
in  this  instance,  it  did  not  take  us  long  to  get  in  the  saddle  and 
after  the  horses  who  were  now  going  across  the  prairie  as 
only  frightened  horses  can  go  in  a  stampede. 

The  storm  continued  with  more  or  less  fury  all  night  and 
it  was  late  the  next  day  before  we  got  the  herd  rounded  up  and 
under  any  sort  of  control.  The  next  morning  we  found  that 
one  of  the  boys,  Frank  Smith,  had  lost  his  horse  and  outfit 
during  the  night.  While  chasing  the  horses  over  the  prairie, 


DEADWOOD  DICK  117 

his  horse  stepped  in  a  prairie  dog's  hole  and  fell.  Throwing 
his  rider  and  snatching  the  rope  out  of  Smith's  hand,  the  horse 
made  off  over  the  prairie  carrying  with  him  bridle,  saddle  and 
outfit,  and  we  never  saw  or  heard  of  him  again.  After  getting 
our  breakfast,  we  continued  north,  and  all  went  well  with  us 
until  we  struck  the  Wakeeny  river,  near  Junction  City,  when 
in  fording  the  stream.  It  was  high  water  and  we  were  forced 
to  swim  our  horses  across.  All  went  well  with  the  herd  and 
the  boys  were  following  when  one  of  them  came  near  being 
drowned,  and  was  only  saved  by  my  quick  rope. 

I  had  entered  the  river  and  my  horse  was  swimming 
easily,  when  on  glancing  around  I  saw  one  of  the  boys,  Loyd 
Hoedin  by  name,  go  under  th.e  water.  Both  man  and  horse 
completely  disappeared.  They  soon  came  up  only  to  disap- 
pear again.  I  saw  at  once  something  was  wrong  so  when  they 
came  up  the  second  time  I  threw  my  rope.  It  fell  near  Hoe- 
din,  who  had  the  presence  of  mind  to  grasp  it,  and  hold  on 
while  I  snaked  both  man  and  horse  out  to  safety.  After 
reaching  Junction  City  and  turning  the  herd  over  to  their  new 
owners  we  started  out  to  have  the  usual  good  time.  This 
lasted  for  several  days  during  which  time  we  cleaned  up  pretty 
near  all  the  money  there  was  in  the  Junction  with  our  horses 
in  a  six  hundred  yard  race,  be/tween  ourselves  and  cow  boys 
from  different  outfits  who  happened  to  be  in  the  city. 

Our  horses  without  exception  proved  the  fastest  runners, 
accordingly  we  pocketed  considerable  coin,  and  in  conse- 
quence we  were  feeling  first  rate  when  we  struck  the  trail 
homeward  bound.  We  arrived  at  the  home  ranch  all  right  in 
June.  This  was  the  last  trip  we  were  called  to  make  this  sea- 
son, and  our  time  for  the  remainder  of  the  year  was  taken  up 
with  the  general  routine  work  of  the  large  cattle  ranch. 

Late  the  next  season  we  took  the  trail  en  route  to  Chey- 
enne, Wyoming,  with  two  thousand  head  of  fine  Texas  steers 
for  the  Swan  Brothers,  20  mlies  northwest  of  Cheyenne.  Noth- 
ing of  unusual  importance  happened  on  this  trip  aside  from 
the  regular  incidents  pertaining  to  driving  such  a  large  herd 
of  cattle  on  the  trail.  We  had  a  few  stampedes  and  lost  a  few 


ii8  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES   OF 

cattle,  arriving  in  Cheyenne  we  had  a  royal  good  time  for  a 
few  days  as  usual  before  starting  home.  On  arriving  at  the 
home  ranch  again  we  found  considerable  excitement,  owing  to 
the  war  between  the  cattle  men  and  cattle  rustlers  and  every 
man  was  needed  at  home  and  few  there  were  who  did  not  take 
part  in  one  way  or  another  in  the  most  bitter  and  furious  cattle 
war  of  history  and  I  being  one  of  the  leading  cowboys  of  the 
West,  necessarily  took  an  active  part  in  the  dispute  and  many 
were  the  sharp  clashes  between  the  waring  factions  that  1 
witnessed  and  fought  in  and  was  wounded  many  times  in  these 
engagements.  For  years  the  cattle  rustlers  had  been  invading 
the  large  cattle  ranges  belonging  to  the  large  cattle  kings  of 
the  West  and  running  off  and  branding  large  numbers  of 
choice  cattle  and  horses,  this  led  to  many  a  sharp  fight  be- 
tween the  cowboys  and  the  rustlers,  but  of  late  these  thieves 
had  become  so  bold  and  the  losses  of  the  cattle  men  had  be- 
come so  great  that  the  latter  determined  to  put  a  stop  to  it, 
and  so  open  war  was  declared. 

On  one  side  was  the  large  ranchmen  and  cattle  men  and 
en  the  other  the  Indians,  half  breeds,  Mexicans  and  white  out- 
laws that  made  the  cattle  country  their  rendezvous.  The  cat- 
tle men  had  now  organized  with  the  given  determination  of 
either  killing  or  running  out  of  the  country  for  good  these 
thieves,  who  had  caused  them  so  much  loss.  And  during  the 
war  many  of  them  cashed  in  and  the  others  for  the  most  part 
left  for  pastures  new,  having  been  virtually  whipped  out  of  the 
country.  It  was  a  desperate  and  bloody  war  while  it  lasted. 

But  it  was  satisfactory  to  the  cattle  men  who  could  now 
rest  easier  in  the  security  of  their  herds  and  their  grazing 
grounds.  It  was  at  this  time  that  I  saw  considerable  of  Will- 
iam H.  Bonney  alias  "Billie  the  kid",  the  most  noted  desper- 
ado and  all  around  bad  man  the  world  has  known. 

The  first  time  I  met  Billie  the  Kid  was  in  Antonshico, 
New  Mexico,  in  a  saloon,  when  he  asked  me  to  drink  with  him, 
that  was  in  1877.  Later  he  hired  to  Pete  Galligan,  the  man  in 
whose  employ  I  was.  Galligan  hired  the  Kid  to  drive  his  buck 
board  between  the  White  Oaks,  the  nearest  town,  and  Gallir 
gan's  ranch  with  provisions  for  the  boys,  and  the  Kid  told  me 


DEADWOOD  DICK  119 

himself  that  one  these  trips  he  would  drive  the  team,  on  a 
dead  run,  the  whole  distance  of  30  miles  to  the  Oaks  in  order 
to  get  there  quick  so  he  would  have  more  time  to  stay  around 
town  before  it  was  time  to  start  back,  then  when  he  would  ar- 
rive home  the  team  was  nearly  dead  from  exhaustion.  He  re- 
mained in  the  employ  of  Galligan  for  about  eleven  months, 
then  he  was  hired  by  John  Chisholm  to  rustle  cattle  for  him. 
Chisholm  agreed  to  pay  the  Kid  so  much  per  head  for  all  the 
cattle  the  Kid  rustled.  When  the  time  came  for  a  settlement, 
Chisholm  failed  to  settle  right  or  to  the  Kid's  saisfaction,  then 
the  Kid  told  Chisholm  he  would  give  him  one  day  to  make  up 
his  mind  to  settle  right,  but  before  the  Kid  could  see  Chis- 
holm again,  Chisholm  left  the  country  going  east  where  his 
brother  was.  The  Kid  then  swore  vengence,  and  said  he  would 
take  his  revenge  out  of  CTiisholm'-s  men,  and  he  at  once  began 
killing  all  the  employ  of  John  Chisholm.  He  would  ride  up  to 
a  bunch  of  cowboys  and  enquire  if  they  worked  for  Chisholm. 
If  they  replied  in  the  affirmative,  he  would  shoot  them  dead  on 
the  spot,  and  few  men  were  quicker  with  a  45  or  a  deadly 
shot  than  "Billie  the  Kid".  The  next  time  I  met  the  Kid  was 
in  Holbrook,  Arizona,  just  after  a  big  round  up.  The  Kid, 
Buck  Cannon,  and  Billie  Woods  were  together.  I  was  on  my 
way  to  Silver  City,  New  Mexico,  in  the  fall  of  1880  when  I  met 
them,  and  as  they  were  going  there  also,  we  rode  on  together 
The  "Kid"  showed  me  the  little  log  cabin  where  he  said  he 
was  born.  I  went  in  the  cabin  with  him,  and  he  showed  me 
how  it  was  arranged  when  he  lived  there,  showing  me  where 
the  bed  sat  and  the  stove  and  table.  He  then  pointed  out  the 
old  postoffice  which  he  said  he  had  been  in  lots  of  times. 

He  told  me  he  was  born  and  raised  in  Silver  City,  New 
Mexico,  which  is  near  the  Moggocilion  Mountains,  and  at  that 
time  the  Kid  was  badly  wanted  by  the  sheriffs  of  several  coun- 
ties for  numerous  murders  committed  by  him  mostly  of  John 
Chisholm's  men  in  Texas  and  New  Mexico. 

The  Kid  bid  me  good  bye.  He  said  he  was  going  to  the 
mountains  as  he  knew  them  well,  and  once  there  he  was  all 
rigtit  as  he  could  stand  off  a  regiment  of  soldiers.  The  three 
of  them  departed  together.  I  never  saw  him  again  until  the 


120  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

spring  of  1881.  I  was  in  the  city  of  Elmorgo,  New  Mexico, 
and  saw  him  the  morning  he  was  forced  to  flee  to  the  moun- 
tains to  escape  arrest.  We  could  see  him  up  there  behind  the 
rocks.  He  was  well  armed  having  with  him  two  Winchesters 
and  two  45  Colts  revolvers  and  plenty  of  ammunition,  and  al- 
though the  offiicers  wanted  him  badly,  no  one  dared  go  up  after 
him  as  it  was  certain  death  to  come  with  range  of  the  Kid's 
guns.  Later  on  he  escaped  and  the  next  time  I  saw  him  was 
in  Antonshico,  New  Mexico.  It  was  in  June,  and  we  had  come 
up  from  Colonas  after  some  saddle  horses,  and  I  met  and 
talked  with  him. 

The  next  time  I  saw  him  he  was  laying  dead  at  Pete  Max- 
well's ranch  in  Lincoln  county,  New  Mexico,  having  been 
killed  by  Pat  A.  Garret  at  that  time  sheriff  of  Lincoln  county, 
New  Mexico.  We  arrived  in  Lincoln  county  the  very  night 
he  was  killed  at  Pete  Maxwell's  ranch  and  went  into  camp 
a  short  distance  from  Maxwell's,  and  we  saw  the  Kid  a  short 
time  after  he  had  been  killed.  The  Kid  had  been  arrested  by 
Pat  Garret  and  his  posse  a  short  time  before  at  Stinking 
Springs,  New  Mexico,  along  with  Tom  Pickett,  Billy  Wilson 
and  Dave  Rudebough,  after  arresting  these  men  which  was 
only  effected  after  a  hard  fight  and  after  the  Kid's  ammunition 
had  given  out.  Garret  took  the  men  heavily  ironed  to  Los 
Vegas.  When  it  became  known  that  Billy  the  Kid  had  been 
captured  a  mob  formed  for  the  purpose  of  lynching  him.  But 
Garret  placed  his  prisoners  in  a  box  car  over  which  himself 
and  deputies  stood  guard  until  the  train  pulled  out  which  was 
nearly  two  hours.  During  that  time  the  mob  was  furious  to 
get  at  the  men,  but  they  well  knew  the  temper  of  'Sheriff  Gar- 
ret so  they  kept  their  distance. 

The  men  were  tried  and  convicted.  The  Kid  and  Rud- 
bough  were  sentenced  to  be  hanged.  Rudbough  for  having 
killed  a  jailer  at  Los  Vegas  in  1880.  The  judge  on  pass- 
ing sentence  on  the  Kid,  said  you  are  sentenced  to  be  hanged 
by  the  neck  until  you  are  dead-dead-dead.  The  Kid  laughed 
in  the  judge's  face  saying,  and  you  can  go  to  Hell,  Hell,  Hell. 
After  the  Kid  had  been  sentenced  he  was  placed  in  jail  at  Los 
Vegas,  ironed  hand  and  foot,  and  under  heavy  guard,  but 


DEADWOOD  DICK  rtzi 

never  lost  confidence  and  was  always  looking  for  a  chance  to 
escape.  When  the  day  of  his  execution  was  not  much  more 
than  a  week  off,  the  Kid  saw  his  chance,  while  eating  his  sup- 
per both  handcuffs  had  been  fastened  to  one  wrist  so  the  Kid 
could  better  feed  himself.  He  was  only  guarded  by  one 
deputy  named  Bell.  The  other  deputy,  Ollinger,  had  gone  to 
supper  across  the  street  from  the  jail.  Bell  turned  his  head  for 
a  moment  and  the  Kid  noticing  the  movement  quick  as  a  flash 
brought  the  handcuffs  down  on  Bell's  head,  stunning  him. 
The  Kid  then  snatched  Bell's  revolver,  he  shot  the  deputy 
through  the  body.  Bell  staggered  to  the  steps  down  which  he 
fell  and  into  the  yard  below  where  he  died.  Ollinger  hearing 
the  shot  rushed  across  the  street.  As  he  entered  the  jail  yard 
he  looked  up  and  saw  the  Kid  at  a  window.  As  he  did  so  the 
Kid  shot  Ollinger  dead  with  a  shot  gun  which  was  loaded 
with  buck  shot.  The  Kid  then  broke  the  gun  across  the  win- 
dow sill,  then  going  to  the  room  where  the  weapons  were  kept 
the  Kid  picked  out  what  guns  he  wanted  and  broke  the  bal- 
ance. Then  he  made  the  first  person  he  met  break  the  irons 
from  his  legs  and  bring  him  a  horse.  The  Kid  then  took  four 
revolvers  and  two  Winchester  rifles  and  rode  away.  Sheriff 
Garret  was  at  White  Oaks  at  the  time  and  as  soon  he  as  heard 
of  the  escape  he  hurried  home  and  organized  a  posse  to  recap- 
ture the  Kid,  but  the  Kid  was  at  liberty  two  months  before  he 
was  finally  rounded  up  and  killed  at  Pete  Maxwell's  ranch. 
At  the  time  the  Kid  escaped  at  Los  Vegas  myself  and  a  party 
of  our  boys  had  our  horses  at  Menderhall  and  Hunter's  livery 
stable,  just  a  few  doors  from  the  jail  and  I  was  standing  on 
the  street  talking  to  a  friend  when  the  Kid  rode  by.  From  Los 
Vegas  he  went  to  the  borders  of  Lincoln  county  where  his 
ever  ready  revolver  was  always  in  evidence.  Shortly  after  his 
escape  he  shot  and  killed  William  Mathews  and  a  companion 
whom  he  met  on  the  prairie  without  apparent  cause,  and  sev- 
eral other  murders  were  attributed  to  him  before  he  was 
finally  located  at  Maxwell's  ranch  and  killed  by  Sheriff  Garret. 
The  Kid  was  only  22  years  of  age  when  his  wild  career 
was  ended  by  the  bullet  from  the  sheriff's  gun  and  it  is  safe  to 
assert  he  had  at  lease  one  murder  to  the  credit  of  every  year 


122  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

of  his  life.  He  was  killed  by  Sheriff  Garret  in  a  room  of  one 
of  the  old  houses  at  Fort  Sumner,  known  at  that  time  as  Max- 
well's ranch,  July  12,  1881,  about  two  months  after  his  escape 
from  the  Lincoln  county  jail,  and  Sheriff  Pat  A.  Garret,  one  of 
the  nervest  men  of  that  country  of  nervy  men  and  the  only 
man  who  ever  pursued  the  Kid  and  lived  to  tell  the  tale,  is  at 
present  at  the  head  of  the  Customs  Service  at  El  Paso,  Texas, 
and  to  meet  him  and  note  his  pleasant  smile  and  kindly  dis- 
position, one  would  not  believe  him  the  man  who  sent  Billie 
the  Kid  to  his  last  account.  But  behind  the  pleasant  twinkle 
in  his  eye  and  the  warm  hand  clasp  there  is  a  head  as  cool  and 
a  nerve  as  steady  as  ever  held  a  45. 


CHAPTER  XVIL 

ANOTHER  TRIP  TO  OLD  MEXICO.  I  ROPE  AN  EN- 
GINE. I  FALL  IN  LOVE.  MY  COURTSHIP.  DEATH 
OF  MY  SWEETHEART.  MY  PROMISED  WIFE.  I 
MUST  BEAR  A  CHARMED  LIFE.  THE  ADVENT 
OF  PROGRESS.  THE  LAST  OF  THE  RANGE. 

On  one  of  these  memorable  trips  after  cattle,  and  with 
cattle  on  the  trail,  one  that  I  will  most  likely  remember,  the 
longest  was  a  trip  to  Old  Mexico  after  a  herd  of  horses.  It 
was  on  this  trip  that  I  fell  in  love,  the  first  time  in  my  life. 
During  my  wild  career  on  the  western  plains  I  had  met  many 
handsome  women,  and  they  often  made  much  of  me,  but 
somehow  I  had  never  experienced  the  feeling  called  love,  un- 
til I  met  my  charming  sweetheart  in  Old  Mexico.  I  had  per- 
haps been  too  much  absorbed  in  the  wild  life  of  the  plains,  in 
the  horses,  and  cattle  which  made  up  my  world,  to  have  the 
time  or  inclination  to  seek  or  enjoy  the  company  of  the  gentler 
sex.  But  now  that  I  had  met  my  fate,  I  suppose  I  became  as 
silly  about  it  as  any  tenderfoot  from  the  east  could  possibly 
be.  as  evidence  of  how  badly  I  was  hit.  While  on  the  trail 
with  the  herd  our  route  lay  along  a  narrow  gauge  railroad, 
and  I  was  feeling  up  in  the  air  caused  no  doubt  partly  from  the 
effects  of  love  and  partly  from  the  effects  of  Mexican  whiskey, 
a  generous  measure  I  had  under  my  belt,  however  I  was  feel- 
ing fine,  so  when  the  little  engine  came  puffing  along  in  the 
distance  I  said  to  the  'boys  I  have  roped  nearly  everything  that 
could  be  roped,  so  now  I  'am  going  to  rope  the  engine.  They 
tried  to  persuade  me  not  to  make  the  attempt,  but  I  was  in  no 
mood  to  listen  to  reason  or  anything  else,  so  when  the  engine 
came  along  I  put  my  spurs  to  my  horse  and  when  near  enough 
1  let  fly  my  lariat.  The  rope  settled  gracefully  around  the 
smoke  stack,  and  as  usual  my  trained  horse  set  himself  back 
for  the  shock,  but  the  engine  set  both  myself  and  my  horse  in 
the  ditch,  and  might  have  continued  to  set  us  in  places  had 


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DEADWOOD  DICK  125 

not  something  given  way,  as  it  was  the  rope  parted,  but  the 
boys  said  afterwards  that  they  thought  they  would  have  to 
send  for  a  wrecking  train  to  clean  the  track  or  rather  the  ditch. 

Roping  a  live  engine  is  by  long  odds  worse  than  roping 
wild  Buffalo  on  the  plains  or  Uncle  Sam's  cannon  at  the  forts. 
This  incident  cleared  the  atmosphere  somewhat,  but  my  love 
was  as  strong  as  ever  and  I  thanked  my  lucky  start  she  did 
not  see  me  as  they  dragged  me  out  of  the  ditch. 

I  first  saw  my  sweetheart  as  we  were  driving  the  herd 
along  the  dusty  road,  passing  a  small  adobe  house  near  the 
city  of  O'ld  Mexico.  I  saw  a  handsome  young  Spanish  girl 
standing  in  the  yard  and  I  suppose  I  fell  in  love  with  her  at 
first  sight,  anyway  I  pretended  to  be  very  thirsty  and  rode 
up  and  asked  her  for  a  drink.  She  gave  it  to  me  and  I  ex- 
changed a  few  words  with  her  before  joining  the  boys  and  the 
herds. 

After  that  I  saw  her  quite  often  during  my  stay  in  Old 
Mexico  before  we  again  returned  home.  One  day  shortly  be- 
fore I  was  to  leave  for  the  North  I  went  to  see  her  and  over- 
heard a  conversation  between  her  and  her  mother,  in  which 
her  mother  said  to  her :  "My  daughter  will  you  leave  your 
mother  for  to  go  with  the  wild  cowboy?"  And  she  answered 
no  mother  I  will  not  leave  you  to  go  with  any  wild  cowboy. 
On  hearing  this  I  bid  her  goodbye  and  a  long  farewell,  as  I 
told  her  I  did  not  expect  to  ever  see  her  again.  Then  leaping 
to  the  back  of  my  faithful  horse  I  rode  like  mad  across  the 
Mexican  plains,  until  I  had  somewhat  cooled  down,  but  it  was 
a  hard  blow  to  me,  as  I  truly  loved  her.  After  that  I  joined 
the  boys  and  returned  up  the  trail  with  them.  Six  or  seven 
months  later  we  were  again  in  Old  Mexico  with  a  herd  of 
cattle  and  went  in  camp  some  distance  out  from  the  city,  and 
as  soon  as  she  heard  our  rutfit  had  returned  she  rode  out  to 
the  camp  and  after  looking  around  and  not  seeing  me,  she 
said  to  the  camp  boss,  "Where  is  the  wild  cowboy  that  was 
here  with  you  last  time?  Did  he  not  come  up  the  trail  with 
you".  The  boss  told  her  I  had  come  up  the  trail  but  that  I  had 
not  been  seen  since  crossing  the  last  mountains  as  of  course 
he  knew  whom  she  meant  as  my  little  love  affair  was  pretty 


\ 


DEADWOOD  DICK  127 

generally  known  among  the  boys.  When  the  boss  told  her 
that  I  had  not  been  seen  since  they  had  crossed  the  last  moun- 
tains, she  hung  her  head  and  looked  completely  heart  broken. 
1  was  lying  in  the  mess  wagon  at  the  time  an  interested  spec- 
tator of  all  that  took  place,  and  seeing  her  looking  so  down- 
hearted I  could  hardly  restrain  myself  from  jumping  out  of 
the  wagon  and  taking  her  in  my  arms.  After  a  time  she  slowly 
raised  her  head  and  looked  long  and  wistfully  up  the  trail. 
Then  turning  to  the  camp  boss  again  she  said,  "Camp  boss  tell 
me  truly  if  Nat  Love  works  with  you  and  did  he  come  on  this 
trip  with  you".  The  boss  answered  her  as  before  that  I  had 
not  been  seen  since  crossing  the  last  mountains,  which  was 
true  as  I  had  been  riding  in  the  mess  wagon.  On  hearing\the 
boss'  answer  she  took  it  as  final  and  started  to  ride  away. 

I  thought  it  high  time  to  make  my  presence  known,  as 
with  the  sight  of  her,  all  my  old  love  returned,  and  I  forgot 
every  thing  except  that  I  loved  her.  So  I  jumped  out  of  the 
wagon  exclaiming  here  I  am,  and  in  a  minute  we  were  locked 
in  each  others  arms  and  I  believe  I  kissed  her  before  all  the 
boys,  but  I  didn't  care,  she  was  mine  now.  We  became  en- 
gaged and  were  to  be  married  in  the  fall  and  were  to  make  our 
home  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  but  in  the  spring  she  took  sick  and 
died.  Her  death  broke  me  all  up  and  after  I  buried  her  I  be- 
came very  wild  and  reckless,  not  caring  what  happened  to  me 
and  when  you  saw  me  in  the  saddle  you  saw  me  at  home,  and 
while  I  saw  many  women  since  I  could  never  care  for  any  as  I 
did  for  her.  And  I  vainly  tried  to  forget  her  and  my  sorrow 
in  the  wild  life  of  the  plains  and  every  danger  I  could  find 
courting  death  in  fights  with  Indians  and  Mexicans  and  dare 
devil  riding  on  the  range,  but  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  bore  a 
charmed  life.  Horses  were  shot  from  under  me,  men  were 
killed  around  me,  but  always  I  escaped  with  a  trifling  wound 
at  the  worst.  As  time  passed  I  began  to  recover  from  my  dis- 
appointment and  to  take  my  old  interest  in  the  work  of  the 
ranch,  and  as  my  reputation  had  spread  over  the  country  I  did 
not  lack  work,  but  was  kept  on  the  go  all  the  time,  first  with 
one  large  cattle  owner,  then  with  another.  Most  of  my  work- 
ing being  in  the  round  ups  and  brandings,  brand  reading,  and 


DEADWOOD  DICK  129 

with  large  herds  on  the  trail,  as  during  my  long  experience  in 
the  cattle  country  I  had  traveled  every  known  trail,  and  over 
immense  stretches  of  country  where  there  was  no  sign  of  a 
trail,  nothing  but  the  wide  expanse  of  prairie ;  bare  except  for 
the  buffalo  grass,  with  here  and  there  a  lone  tree  or  a  giant 
cactus  standing  as  a  lone  sentinel  in  the  wildest  of  long  stret- 
ches of  grazing  land  rolling  away  in  billows  of  hill  and  gully, 
like  the  waves  of  the  ocean.  Likewise  I  could  read,  identify 
and  place  every  brand  or  mark  placed  on  a  horse  or  steer  be- 
tween the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  the  borders  of  Canada,  on  the 
North  and  from  Missouri  to  California.  Over  this  stretch  of 
country  I  have  often  traveled  with  herds  of  horses  or  cattle  or 
in  searching  for  strays  or  hunting  the  noble  buffalo  on  his  own 
native  feeding  grounds.  The  great  buffalo  slaughter  com- 
menced in  the  west  in  1874,  and  in  1877  they  had  become  so 
scarce  that  it  was  a  rare  occasion  when  you  came  across  a  herd 
containing  more  than  fifty  animals  where  before  you  could 
find  thousands  in  a  herd.  Many  things  were  responsible  for  the 
slaughter,  but  the  principal  reason  that  they  had  now  become 
so  scarce  was  that  in  1875  and  1876  the  Indians  started  to  kill 
them  in  large  numbers  for  their  skins.  Thousands  were  killed 
by  them,  skinned  and  the  carcasses  left  as  food  for  the  wolves 
and  vultures  of  the  prairie.  Many  were  killed  by  the  white 
hunters  to  furnish  meat  for  the  railroad  graders  and  the  troups 
at  the  frontier  forts. 

While  the  big  cattle  ranches  were  always  kept  well  sup- 
plied with  buffalo  meat,  on  the  stock  of  my  rifle  is  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-six  notches,  each  one  representing  a  fine 
buffalo  that  has  'fallen  to  my  own  hand,  while  some  I  have 
killed  with  the  knife  and  45  colts,  I  forgot  to  cut  a  notch  for. 
Buffalo  hunting,  a  sport  for  kings,  thy  time  has  passed.  Where 
once  they  roamed  by  the  thousands  now  rises  the  chimney  and 
the  spire,  while  across  their  once  peaceful  path  now  thunders 
the  iron  horse,  awakening  the  echoes  far  and  near  with  bell 
and  whistle,  where  once  could  only  be  heard  the  sharp  crack 
of  the  rifle  or  the  long  doleful  yelp  of  the  coyote.  At  the  pres- 
ent time  the  only  buffalo  to  be  found  are  in  the  private  parks 
of  a  few  men  who  are  preserving  them  for  pleasure  or  profit. 


130  LIFE   AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

With  the  march  of  progress  came  the  railroad  and  no 
longer  were  we  called  upon  to  follow  the  long  horned  steers, 
or  mustangs  on  the  trail,  while  the  immense  cattle  ranges, 
stretching  away  in  the  distance  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
now  began  to  be  dotted  with  cities  and  towns  and  the  cattle  in- 
dustry which  once  held  a  monopoly  in  the  west,  now  had  to 
give  way  to  the  industry  of  the  farm  and  the  mill.  To  us  wild 
cowboys  of  the  range,  used  to  the  wild  and  unrestricted  life 
of  the  boundless  plains,  the  new  order  of  things  did  not  appeal, 
and  many  of  us  became  disgusted  and  quit  the  wild  life  for  the 
pursuits  of  our  more  civilized  brother.  I  was  among  that 
number  and  in  1890  I  bid  farewell  to  the  life  which  I  had  fol- 
lowed for  over  twenty  years. 

It  was  with  genuine  regret  that  I  left  the  long  horn  Texas 
cattle  and  the  wild  mustangs  of  the  range,  but  the  life  had  in 
a  great  measure  lost  its  attractions  and  so  I  decided  to  quit  it 
and  try  something  else  for  a  while.  During  my  life  so  far  I 
had  no  chance  to  secure  an  education,  except  the  education  of 
the  plains  and  the  cattle  business.  In  this  I  recognize  no 
superior  being.  Gifted  with  a  splendid  memory  and  quick  ob- 
servation I  learned  and  remembered  things  that  others  passed 
by  and  forgot,  and  I  have  yet  to  meet  the  man  who  can  give  me 
instruction  in  the  phases  of  a  life  in  which  I  spent  so  long. 
After  quitting  the  cowboy  life  I  struck  out  for  Denver.  Here 
I  met  and  married  the  present  Mrs.  Love,  my  second  love.  We 
were  married  August  22,  1889,  and  she  is  with  me  now  a  true 
and  faithful  partner,  and  says  she  is  not  one  bit  jealous  of  my 
first  love,  who  lies  buried  in  the  city  of  Old  Mexico. 

One  year  later,  in  1890,  I  accepted  a  poslition  in  the  Pull- 
man service  on  the  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Railroad,  running 
between  Denver  and  Salida,  Colorado.  The  Pullman  service 
was  then  in  its  infancy,  so  to  speak,  as  there  was  as  much  dif- 
ference between  the  Pullman  sleeping  cars  of  those  days  and 
the  present  as  there  is  between  the  ox  team  and  the  auto- 
mobile. 


My  First  Experience  as  a  Pullman  Porter 


CHAPTER  XVHL 

THE  PULLMAN  SERVICE.  LIFE  ON  THE  RAIL.  MY 
FIRST  TRIP.  A  SLUMP  IN  TIPS.  I  BECOME  DIS- 
GUSTED AND  QUIT.  A  PERIOD  OF  HUSKING. 
MY  NEXT  TRIP  ON  THE  PULLMAN.  TIPS  AND 
THE  PEOPLE  WHO  GIVE  THEM. 

After  my  marriage  in  Denver,  I  rented  a  small  cottage 
which  I  comfortably  furnished  and  we,  Mrs.  Love  and  myself, 
started  to  housekeeping  in  a  modest  way.  Then  I  began  to 
look  around  for  a  job,  but  to  a  man  who  was  used  to  the  ex- 
citement and  continual  action  of  the  range  and  the  cattle 
ranches,  the  civilized  and  quiet  life  of  the  city  is  apt  to  prove 
stale  and  uninteresting.  It  was  that  way  with  me,  and  after 
passing  up  several  jobs  offered  to  me  I  thought  I  would  try 
railroading  for  awhile,  probably  for  the  same  reason  that 
prompted  me  to  leave  home  twenty  years  before ;  I  still  wanted 
to  see  the  world.  With  that  idea  in  mind,  I  went  to  the  Pull- 
man offices  in  Denver,  and  after  making  some  inquiries  I  was 
directed  to  the  office  of  Superintendent  Rummels  who  was  at 
that  time  superintendent  of  the  Pullman  service. 

A  Mr.  Wright  was  his  assistant.  I  found  Superintendent 
Rummels  in  his  office,  and  I  asked  him  if  he  wanted  to  hire  any 
more  porters.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  ever  worked  for  the  Pull- 
man company.  I  told  him  no  that  I  had  been  a  cowboy  ever 
since  I  was  16  years  old.  He  then  asked  'me  if  I  had  money 
enough  to  buy  my  pullman  uniform.  I  asked  him  how  much 
it  would  cost  and  he  said  $22.00.  I  told  him  yes,  I  had  the 
price.  He  asked  me  if  I  knew  any  one  in  Denver.  I  told  him 
yes  and  gave  him  the  name  of  Mr.  Sprangler  who  had  my 
money  in  his  bank.  Supt.  Rulrrimels  told  me  to  get  a  letter 
from  Mr.  Sprangler  and  he  would  put  me  on.  So  I  went  and 
got  the  letter  and  with  it  the  money  to  pay  for  my  uniform, 
after  having  my  measure  taken  and  sending  for  my  suit.  I 
borrowed  a  uniform  from  one  of  the  other  porters  and  the  sec- 


132  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

ond  day  after  I  called  on  the  superintendent  I  was  sent  on  the 
run  between  Denver  and  Salida.  One  of  the  old  men  put  me 
on  to  my  duties  and  showed  me  how  to  make  up  my  car  and 
the  general  run  of  things. 

On  my  first  trip  I  found  a  kind  friend  in  the  Pullman  con- 
ductor, a  Mr.  Keely,  who  helped  me  in  many  ways  and  I  sup- 
pose I  made  many  blunders  as  the  difference  between  a  Pull- 
man car  and  the  back  of  a  Texas  mustang  is  very  great.  How- 
ever I  managed  to  get  around  among  the  passengers  in  my  car, 
and  attend  to  their  needs  in  some  sort  of  a  way. 

My  first  trouble  commenced  when  I  succeeded  in  getting 
the  shoes  of  passengers  which  had  been  given  to  me  to  polish, 
badly  mixed  up.  The  shoes  of  a  portly  red  faced  man  whose 
berth  was  in  the  forward  end  of 'the  car,  I  placed  by  the  berth 
of  a  tall  and  slim  western  yankee  at  the  other  end  of  the  car, 
while  a  number  7  and  a  number  9  shoe  were  placed  decorously 
by  the  berth  of  a  sour  spinster  from  New  York.  This  natur- 
ally caused  a  good  sized  rumpus  the  next  morning.  And  sun- 
dry blessings  were  heaped  on  the  head  of  yours  truly.  Nearly 
all  the  passengers  were  mad  and  the  tips  were  conspicuous  by 
their  absence.  That  made  me  mad  and  thoroughly  disgusted 
with  the  job.  On  returning  to  Denver  I  again  called  on  Super- 
intendent Rummels  and  told  him  that  I  had  enough  of  the 
Pullman  service,  and  would  rather  go  back  to  the  cattle  and 
the  range.  Superintendent  Rummels  tried  to  persuade  me  to 
stay  with  it  saying  I  had  done  all  right,  and  would  improve 
with  experience  but  I  was  thoroughly  disgusted  and  wanted 
no  more  of  it,  so  I  turned  in  my  keys,  got  my  uniform  and 
walked  out.  So  again  I  was  without  a  job. 

After  going  around  Denver  for  several  days,  it  struck  me 
that  there  was  money  to  be  made  selling  fruit,  vegetables, 
honey  and  chickens  around  the  town.  Accordingly  I  pur- 
chased a  horse  and  wagon  and  an  assorted  stock  and  started 
out  on  my  new  vocation.  This  proved  profitable  from  the 
start  and  I  made  good  money  Which  caused  me  to  stay  with 
it  for  nearly  a  year,  when  my  natural  restfulness  caused  me  to 
become  discontented  and  to  yearn  for  more  excitement  and 
something  a  little  faster  so  I  disposed  of  my  stock,  horse  and 


DEADWOOD  DICK  133 

wagon,  and  started  out  to  look  for  something  else  to  do,  but 
that  something  else  was  about  as  hard  to  find  as  the  proverbial 
needle  in  the  straw  stack,  at  that  particular  time.  Whether  it 
was  fate  or  the  talk  of  the  other  porters  whom  I  met  I  finally 
concluded  to  give  the  Pullman  service  another  try.  According- 
ly I  called  on  Mr.  J.  M.  Smith  who  was  now  district  superin- 
tendent of  the  Pullman  service  and  asked  him  for  a  job.  He 
asked  me  if  I  had  been  in  the  company's  service  before  and  I 
told  him  yes.  He  asked  me  how  long  and  I  told  him  one  trip, 
and  I  told  him  why  I  quit,  and  that  the  tips  were  too  slow  for 
me.  He  asked  me  if  I  thought  it  was  any  better  now,  and  I 
said  I  did  not  know  whether  it  was  any  better  or  not  but  that 
I  thought  I  could  do  better*. 

He  told  me  the  whole  secret  of  success  was  in  pleasing  all 
my  passengers.  I  told  him  I  thought  it  was  all  right  about 
pleasing  two  or  three  passengers  but  when  it  came  to  pleasing 
a  whole  car  full  of  passengers,  that  was  another  matter.  He 
said  to  try  anyway.  He  than  assigned  me  to  a  car  running  on 
the  narrow  gauge  line  between  Denver  and  Alamosa,  Creed 
and  Durango.  This  was  the  real  beginning  of  my  Pullman 
service. 

I  ran  on  the  Colorado  roads  under  Superintendent  Smith 
for  a  number  of  years  and  always  found  him  courteous  and 
obliging,  always  ready  and  willing  to  help  us  with  advice  and 
counsel,  but  what  proved  a  mystery  to  me  for  a  long  time  was 
how  the  superintendent  managed  to  find  out  things  that  hap- 
pened on  my  car  when  he  was  not  present.  Sometimes  when 
i  went  to  report  or  met  him  he  would  question  me  about 
things  that  happened  on  my  run,  such  as  pleasing  the  passen- 
gers and  other  things,  which  I  did  not  suppose  he  knew  a 
thing  about  and  inquiries  among  the  other  trainmen  only  deep- 
ened the  mystery. 

I  would  ask  the  Pullman  conductor  if  he  told  the  superin- 
tendent such  and  such  a  thing  and  he  would  say  no.  Then  I 
would  ask  him  how  the  superintendent  knew  about  them  as  he 
was  not  on  the  train.  He  would  say  he  did  not  know.  This 
kept  up  until  finally  I  made  up  my  mind  that  if  there  ever  was 
a  clairvoyant  the  superintendent  certainly  was  one. 


134  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

The  fact  that  he  was  able  to  find  out  things  that  happened 
hundreds  of  miles  away  without  any  one  telling  him,  kept  me 
worked  up  for  a  long  time  until  I  finally  tumbled  to  the  special 
agents  who  are  employed  to  travel  as  common  passengers  and 
report  how  things  are  going  to  the  superintendent.  That  ex- 
plained the  whole  mystery,  but  it  did  not  in  any  way  make  me 
move  easy  in  my  mind,  because  if  a  special  agent  was  along 
one  trip,  there  was  no  reason  to  think  that  one  was  not  along 
every  trip.  At  least  I  made  up  my  mind  there  was,  and  gov- 
erned myself  accordingly,  but  the  increased  attention  given  to 
my  passengers  as  a  result  caused  an  increase  in  the  tips,  that 
came  my  way.  With  the  increase  in  my  earnings  and  the  ex- 
perience I  was  gaining  I  came  to  have  a  liking  for  the  service, 
which  is  in  no  wise  diminished  at  this  time.  I  soon  learned 
rthe  knack  of  pleasing  the  greater  number  of  my  passengers, 
und  this  reported  to  the  superintendent  by  the  special  agents 
raised  me  in  the  official's  favor  with  the  result  that  I  was  given 
more  extensive  and  more  profitable  runs  and  soon  became  one 
of  the  most  popular  porters  in  Colorado.  This  brought  with 
it  increased  responsibilities  as  well  as  increased  profits  and 
favors  enjoyed. 

When  I  started  to  work  it  was  for  $15.00  per  month  this 
nas  been  increased  from  time  to  time  until  at  present  owing  to 
my  long  service  and  having  gained  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
my  business,  I  am  often  made  porter  in  charge.  This  position 
pays  -me  as  high  as  $40.00  per  month.  The  difference  between 
a  porter  and  a  porter  in  charge  is  that  a  porter  generally  has 
a  car  over  which  a  Pullman  conductor  presides,  which  the  por- 
ter, in  charge  owing  to  his  long  service  and  his  knowledge 
of  the  business  is  placed  in  full  charge  of  a  car,  making  the 
services  of  a  Pullman  conductor  unnecessary.  A  porter  in  the 
employ  of  the  Pullman  company  for  ten  years  and  giving  good 
service  for  that  time  receives  from  the  company  two  suits  of 
clothes  per  year,  and  other  privileges  not  enjoyed  by  the 
beginner. 

A  porter  just  beginning  in  the  service  has  to  purchase  his 
own  uniform,  the  cost  of  which  is  never  less  than  $20.00  for 
the  summer  suit  or  $22.00  for  the  winter  suit.  After  five  years 


DEADWOOD  DICK  135 

of  good  service  a  porter  is  entitled  to  wear  one  white  stripe 
on  his  coat  sleeve  to  which  one  is  added  for  every  succeeding 
live  years  of  good  service.  Naturally  the  porter  that  under- 
stands his  business  and  gives  his  whole  attention  to  the  pas- 
sengers in  his  car  and  to  his  work,  will  make  more  money  than 
the  porter  who  has  not  the  patience  to  try  and  please  his  pas- 
sengers. I  have  had  porters  complain  to  me  about  the  small 
amount  they  were  able  to  earn  in  the  service  and  on  question- 
ing them  I  found  it  was  wholly  because  they  did  not  think  it 
necessary  to  try  and  make  friends  of  the  people  in  their  car.  I 
early  recognized  the  fact  that  if  I  expected  to  succeed  in 
the  Pullman  service  I  must  make  all  the  friends  I  could  on  my 
runs,  and  the  cases  are  very  rare  where  I  have  failed  to  re- 
ceive a  tip  of  some  kind  from  my  passengers,  although  as  it 
happens  sometimes  I  have  people  in  my  car  who  are  not  very 
well  blessed  with  this  world's  goods,  and  who  can  ill  afford  to 
spend  money  in  tips.  To  such  people  I  always  give  the  same 
attention  and  care,  as  if  I  was  sure  to  receive  a  $10  tip,  and 
they  rarely  failed  to  give  me  a  kind  thank  you,  on  leaving  my 
car.  In  the  course  of  our  duties  we  naturally  meet  all  manner 
of  people,  the  business  man  out.  for  business  or  pleasure,  the 
drummers  who  nearly  always  give  us  a  tip ;  the  wife  going  to 
join  her  sick  husband  or  the  husband  hurrying  home  to  the 
bedside  of  his  sick  child ;  the  invalid  in  search  of  health,  or  the 
family  going  home  to  attend  the  funeral  of  a  loved  one;  the 
young  man  going  to  be  married,  and  the  young  couple  on  their 
honeymoon ;  the  capitalist,  the  miner,  the  sportsman  and  the 
vast  army  of  people  that  go  to  make  up  the  traveling  public, 
who  like  the  sands  of  the  desert  are  forever  shifting  around 
from  place  to  place,  and  with  whom  we  porters  are  brought 
in  closer  contact  perhaps  than  any  one  else  on  their  travels. 
We  must  necessarily  be  good  judges  of  human  nature  to  be 
able  to  please  the  majority  of  the  people  who  travel  under  our 
care.  We  nearly  always  receive  a  tip  from  those  who  ride 
with  us  for  any  distance.  The  size  of  the  tip  often  depends 
on  the  mode  of  the  passenger  giving  it.  Even  those  who  ride 
with  us  only  a  short  distance  often  give  us  a  tip  of  more  gener- 
ous proportions  than  will  the  man  who  has  ridden  with  us 


I36  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

several  thousands  of  miles.  The  superintendent  himself  when 
he  rides  in  our  car,  we  are  sure  to  receive  from  him  25  cents  or 
50  cents  for  a  day  or  a  day's  ride. 

The  smallest  tip  I  have  received  from  a  passenger  during 
my  service  was  2  cents.  This  amount  I  received  from  a  rather 
cranky  individual,  who  when  I  went  to  brush  him  off  handed 
me  two  copper  cents  and  followed  them  up  with  the  remark 
that  some  of  us  porters  needed  calling-  down  and  some  needed 
knocking  down.  My  opinion  if  what  he  needed  caused  me  to 
smile,  wherein  he  wanted  to  know  what  I  was  smiling  at. 
Needless  to  say  I  did  not  feel  like  wasting  any  more  breath 
on  him  so  I  bundled  his  boxes  and  satchel  out  on  the  platform 
and  left  him  to  follow  at  his  leisure. 

The  largest  tips  I  ever  received  from  a  single  traveler 
was  $25.00  given  me  by  one  of  the  Rothschilds  whom  I 
brought  from  Chicago  to  Frisco,  but  this  has  been  largely  sur- 
passed several  times  in  car  tips  or  trips.  The  Knights  Tem- 
plar one  of  whose  cars  I  had  charge  of  between  Denver  and 
Boston  made,  up  a  purse  of  $150.00  and  presented  it  to  me  with 
the  compliments  of  the  passengers  in  recognition  of  the  good 
service  I  had  rendered  them.  While  in  charge  of  the  private 
car  of  General  Manager  Fisher  in  a  trip  through  California 
and  Mexico,  Mr.  Fisher  made  up  a  purse  of  $75.00  for  me,  in 
recognition  of  my  attentions  to  the  members  of  his  party.  But 
the  man  who  gave  me  5  cents  received  as  much  attention  from 
me  as  the  man  who  gives  me  $5.00  .  It  is  perhaps  all  he  can 
afford  and  the  manner  in  which  he  gives  it  often  makes  up  for 
the  smallness  of  the  tip. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  PULLMAN  SLEEPING  CAR.  LONG  TRIPS  ON 
THE  RAIL.  THE  WRECK.  ONE  TOUCH  OF  NA- 
TURE MAKES  THE  WHOLE  WORLD  KIN.  A  FEW 
OF  THE  RAILROADS  OVER  WHICH  I  HAVE 
TRAVELED.  THE  INVALID  AND  THE  CARE  WE 
GIVE  THEM. 

The  modern  Pullman  sleeping  car  is  a  veritable  palace  on 
wheels  furnished  in  the  best  materials,  without  regard  to  ex- 
pense, comfort,  convenience  and  the  safety  of  the  passengers 
being  the  main  object.  To  say  that  the  builders  of  the  Pull- 
man cars  have  succeeded  in  attaining  this  object  is  but  a  mild 
expression.  Fine  carpets  cover  the  floors,  the  seats  and  chairs 
are  upholstered  in  the  best  and  softest  of  material,  while  every 
convenience  is  provided  for  the  use  of  the  lucky  mortal  who  is 
called  across  the  continent  on  business  or  pleasure,  and  whose 
pleasure  it  is  to  travel  and  sleep  in  the  Pullman  sleeping  car 
of  the  present  day.  The  traveler  of  today  when  he  has  to  go 
from  Chicago  to  San  Francisco,  simply  throws  a  few  things 
in  a  grip,  is  driven  to  the  Union  terminal  station  in  Chicago, 
where  he  secures  a  through  ticket  and  a  sleeping  car  berth.  At 
the  car  steps  he  is  met  by  the  Pullman  porter  who  relieves  him 
of  his  grip  and  assists  him  on  the  train  if  necessary.  From 
that  time  until  four  days  later  when  he  arrives  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, he  has  no  more  care.  If  he  wishes  to  write  letters  there 
is  a  handy  writing  tablet  with  stationery  and  everything  need- 
ful. He  can  write  his  letters  and  hand  them  to  the  porter  to 
mail  and  continue  his  perusal  of  the  morning  paper.  If  he  gets 
hungry  he  has  but  to  step  in  the  dining  car,  where  he  will  find 
viands  fit  for  a  king.  If  he  wants  a  shave  or  a  haircut,  the  bar- 
ber is  in  the  next  car.  If  he  wants  to  view  the  scenery  en 
route,  the  observation  car  is  but  a  few  steps  away.  When  he 
gets  sleepy  and  wishes  to  retire  he  presses  the  electric  button 


138  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES   OF 

at  his  elbow  and  the  porter  will  do  the  rest,  but  if  he  prefers 
to  lay  in  his  luxurious  bed  and  read,  he  has  but  to  turn  on  the 
electric  light  at  his  bedside  and  he  can  read  as  long  as  he 
pleases,  and  when  he  arrives  at  San  Francisco  he  will  be 
cleanly  shaven,  nicely  brushed,  with  his  shoes  freshly  shined, 
and  on  the  outside  of  a  good  breakfast,  ready  to  tackle  at 
once  the  business  or  the  pleasure  that  brought  him  across 
the  continent.  Or,  if  the  traveler  prefers,  he  may  swing  aboard 
the  magnificently  equipped  and  royally  appointed  Los  An- 
geles Limited,  one  of  the  finest  through  trains  that  this 
mundane  sphere  can  boast.  Catch  this  train  in  Chicago, 
which  you  may  do  any  day  in  the  year,  and  it  will  carry  you 
with  safety,  speed  and  comfort  over  the  fertile  'farms, 
meadows  and  plains ;  through  the  City  of  the  Saints  on  the 
second  day;  then  around  the  Great  Dead  Sea  of  America, 
over  the  sage  brush  plains  and  grazing  ranges  of  southern 
Nevada,  and  into  the  Land  of  Sunshine  and  Flowers  and  the 
City  of  the  Angels  on  the  third  day  after  leaving  your  home 
in  Chicago. 

What  a  contrast  to  the  mode  of  travel  our  grandfathers 
were  forced  to  adopt,  a  decade  ago,  when  the  old  ox  team 
and  the  prairie  schooner  wended  its  slow  way  over  the  moun- 
tains and  plains,  over  trails  in  every  turn  of  which  lurked 
danger  and  death.  "Verily  the  sun  do  move."  During  ray 
service  with  the  Pullman  company  I  have  traveled  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Pacific  and  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  the 
borders  of  Canada,  over  nearly  all  the  many  different  lines 
of  railroad  that  makes  the  map  of  North  America  look  like 
a  spider  had  been  crawling  over  it  in  search  of  a  fly.  I  have 
visited  all  the  principal  cities  and  towns  where  the  sound  of 
the  bell  and  the  whistle  is  heard,  and  I  have  in  a  great  measure 
satisfied  my  desire  to  see  the  country.  Among  the  great  lines 
of  railway  over  which  I  have  traveled  are  the  Union  Pacific, 
whose  overland  limited,  the  Atlantic  Express  and  the  Portland- 
Chicago  Special,  are  the  acme  of  quick,  safe  and  comfortable 
travel.  The  overland  limited  is  electric  lighted,  steam  heated 
and  contains  every  known  luxury  and  convenience  of  travel. 
The  Denver  and  Rio  Grande  Railroad  is  noted  the  world  over 


DEADWOOD  DICK  139 

for  its  quick  time,  fine  scenery,  comfort  and  safety.  The 
Southern  Pacific,  the  Baltimore  &  Ohio  Southwestern,  the 
Missouri  Pacific  between  St.  Louis  and  all  points  east,  all 
electric  lighted  trains  with  observation,  parlor,  cafe  dining 
cars  and  Pullman  sleeping  cars ;  the  Chicago  &  North- 
western, whose  through  train  service  to  Chicago  and  the  East 
from  San  Francisco,  Los  Angeles,  Portland,  Salt  Lake,  Ogden 
and  Denver  is  not  excelled  in  any  land;  the  Illinois  Central 
Railroad,  whose  eight  track  entrance  to  Chicago  from  the 
south  along  the  lake  front  is  one  of  the  triumphs  of  Yankee 
railroading,  and  whose  train  service  is  elegant  in  the  extreme. 
The  Pennsylvania  lines  which  will  take  you  from  Chicago  to 
New  York  in  eighteen  hours  and  make  you  feel  thoroughly 
comfortable  while  doing  it.  The  Louisville  and  Nashville 
Railroad,  whose  lines  reach  every  town  and  hamlet  in  the 
solid  South.  The  Nickel  Plate  road,  the  direct  line  from  Chi- 
cago to  New  York,  Boston  and  all  points  east,  all  trains  of 
the  Nickel  Plate  road  arrive  and  depart  from  the  new  LaSalle 
Street  station,  one  of  the  finest  railroad  stations  in  the  coun- 
try. The  Santa  Fe,  from  whose  trains  you  can  view  some  of 
the  finest  scenery  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  including  the 
Grand  Canyon  of  Arizona,  a  mile  deep,  thirteen  miles  wide, 
two  hundred  and  seventeen  miles  long  and  painted  like  a 
flower.  The  Lehigh  Valley  Railroad  to  Chicago,  New  York 
and  Philadelphia,  from  whose  car  windows  one  may  view 
the  world-famous  Niagara  Falls.  The  Colorado  &  Southern, 
the  Colorado  road  over  which  travel  is  one  continuous  de- 
light. The  San  Pedro,  Los  Angeles  and  Salt  Lake  Railroad, 
one  of  the  youngest  but  by  no  means  the  least  of  railroads, 
the  road  that  lies  as  straight  as  the  crow  flies,  linking  to- 
gether the  City  of  the  "Saints"  and  the  City  of  the  "Angels." 
The  snow-capped  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  sun-kissed  shores 
of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  the  dead  sea  and  the  live  sea;  the  rail- 
road that  makes  it  possible  to  have  a  sleigh  ride  with  your 
second  wife  in  the  City  of  the  "Saints"  on  Sunday  and  pick 
flowers  and  eat  oranges  with  your  first  wife  in  the  City  of 
the  "Angels"  on  Tuesday.  Over  this  line  I  am  running  at 
present,  and  while  it  has  only  been  in  operation  a  short  time, 


HO  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

yet  the  time  and  service  equals  and  in  some  cases  surpasses 
the  time  and  service  of  the  great  Trunk  Lines  of  the  east. 
We  often  make  ninety  miles  an  hour  over  the  standard  gauge 
roadbed,  that  equals  any  in  this  country.  The  cars  are  all 
new,  the  engines  are  the  latest  up-to-date  kind.  The  cars 
are  built  for  comfort  and  convenience,  the  trains  are  all  elec- 
tric lighted,  steam  heated  and  have  every  modern  convenience 
for  the  safety  and  comfort  of  the  passengers.  This  road,  in 
common  with  some  of  the  eastern  roads  employs  chair  car 
porters  in  addition  to  the  Pullman  porters.  On  all  trains 
from  Salt  Lake  to  Los  Angeles  there  are  three  or  four  Pull- 
man porters  and  one  chair  car  porter. 

All  trains  have  dining  cars,-which  are  in  reality  magnifi- 
cent dining  rooms,  where  three  times  a  day  the  dainties  of  the 
season  are  prepared  by  a  competent  chef  to  satisfy  the  most 
discriminating  inner  man.  The  furnishings  of  these  cars,  the 
fine  linen,  the  artistic  glass  (china  and  silverware,  are  guar- 
anteed to  make  you  enjoy  your  meal,  even  if  you  have  got 
dyspepsia.  Besides  the  dining  car  and  the  Pullman 
sleeping  cars,  there  is  attached  to  all  overland  trains  on  the 
Salt  Lake  route,  a  through  tourist  sleeper,  which  differs  from 
the  Pullman  sleeper  only  in  a  slight  difference  in  the 
furnishings.  The  service  is  the  same,  but  the  cost  of  a  berth 
in  them  between  Salt  Lake  and  Los  Angeles  is  just  one-half 
that  of  the  standard  sleeepr.  I  have  never  run  on  a  road 
where  better  service,  more  courteous  treatment  or  better  time 
was  made  than  on  the  S.  P.,  L.  A.  &  S.  L.  Railroad. 

In  these  latter  years,  when  progress  is  the  watchword  of 
the  railroads  in  common  with  the  other  industries  of  the 
country,  no  expense  or  pains  are  spared  by  the  railroad  people 
to  add  to  the  comfort,  enjoyments,  safety  and  convenience  of 
the  traveling  public,  until  now  it  is  about  as  safe  to  travel  as 
it  is  to  stay  at  home,  and  not  much  if  any  more  expensive. 
But  in  spite  of  all  safeguards  adopted  by  the  railroads  a 
wreck  occurs  once  in  a  while  the  same  as  accidents  occur  at 
home. 

The  first  wreck  I  was  in  the  train  struck  a  split  switch 
with  the  result  that  the  cars  turned  over  and  piled  up  in  a 


DEADWOOD  DICK  141 

ditch.  That  happened  in  Colorado.  We  were  forced  to  crawl 
out  through  the  windows,  like  a  prairie  dog  out  of  his 
hole.  No  one  was  killed  but  the  passengers  were  all  pretty 
well  shaken  up  and  somewhat  scared.  As  soon  as  the  cars 
got  comfortably  piled  up  and  the  passengers  were  able  to 
speak  they  all  commenced  yelling  for  the  porter.  But  at  that 
particular  moment  the  porter  was  busy  rubbing  his  shins  and 
assuring  himself  there  was  nothing  to  be  scared  about.  The 
passengers  at  such  times  are  apt  to  forget  that  the  porter  is 
as  scared  as  they  are,  and  has  forgotten  all  about  tips  and  such 
commonplace  matters  as  that,  but  after  he  gets  his  wits  about 
him  he  loses  no  time  in  looking  after  his  flock,  and  rendering 
assistance  to  such  of  his  passengers  as  need  it,  and  most,  of 
them  do  need  assistance  of  some  kind  if  for  no  other  reason 
than  to  be  assured  that  they  are  not  hurt.  The  Pullman  porter 
of  today  must  be  a  very  versatile  sort  of  a  person,  he  must 
have  plenty  of  patience,  be  a  good  judge  of  human  nature, 
quick,  kind  and  observant.  Many  are  the  times  a  gouty  and 
crusty  passenger  has  traveled  in  my  car,  who  was  in  such  a 
bad  humor  that  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  please  him,  yet 
before  he  had  ridden  a  hundred  miles  with  me,  I  had  him  in 
good  humor  and  laughing  with  the  rest  of  the  passengers. 
"Laugh  and  the  whole  world  laughs  with  you." 

It  is  by  no  means  an  uncommon  thing  for  us  porters  to 
be  called  upon  to  turn  nurse  for  sick  or  invalid  passengers  in 
our  car,  and  often  have  I  watched  by  the  bedside  of  a  sick 
passenger,  feeding  him,  giving  him  medicine,  bathing  him 
and  in  fact  becoming  for  the  time  being  a  hospital  nurse,  and 
many  are  the  blessings  I  have  received  from  my  sick  pas- 
sengers, both  men  and  women,  whose  pain  I  have  eased,  and 
their  last  moments  on  earth  I  have  cheered.  And  this,  dear 
reader,  we  do  in  the  name  of  humanity  and  not  in  the  name 
of  tips. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  TOURIST  SLEEPING  CAR.  THE  CHAIR  CAR. 
THE  SAFEGUARDS  O'F  MODERN  RAILROADING. 
SEE  AMERICA,  THEN  LET  YOUR  CHEST  SWELL 
WITH  PRIDE  THAT  YOU  ARE  AN  AMERICAN. 

The  Pullman  tourist  sleeping  car,  which  you  can  find  on 
all  through  trains  of  the  different  railroads  throughout  the 
United  States,  are  to  the  traveler  of  moderate  means  what 
the  Pullman  car  is  to  the  millionaire  traveler.  They  are  de- 
signed for  the  comfort  and  convenience  of  the  traveling  public 
to  whom  the  expenditure  of  a  dollar  more  or  less  is  a  matter 
of  moment,  and  who  cannot  afford  or  do  not  care  for  the  small 
extra  show  and  tinsel  of  the  Pullman  sleeping  car,  but  whose 
only  desire  is  to  make  their  journey  pleasant,  comfortable  and 
safe.  This  they  can  do  as  well  in  the  tourist  as  in  the  standard 
sleeping  car. 

There  is  a  difference  in  price  that  will  amount  to  a  tidy 
sum  in  a  long  trip  across  the  continent,  but  that  fact  does 
not  always  appeal  to  the  traveling  public,  as  I  have  had  the 
poorest  of  passengers  in  the  palace  car  and  at  other  times  a 
millionaire  and  his  family  would  be  my  passengers  in  the 
tourist  cars.  It  seems  to  me  a  matter  of  fact  and  one  which 
my  long  experience  seems  to  verify,  that  the  American  trav- 
eler does  not  care  so  much  about  his  comfort  as  his  ability 
to  get  there,  as  the  average  American  traveler  is  always  in  a 
hurry  and  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  he  is  thinking  more  about 
the  speed  of  the  train  than  he  is  about  his  immediate  sur- 
roundings or  the  price  he  had  paid  for  his  ticket.  The  rail- 
roads, knowing  this,  have  made  and  are  continually  making 
every  effort  to  add  to  the  speed  and  safety  of  their  trains,  but 
traveling  long  distances  is  a  tiresome  matter  at  the  best  and 
for  that  reason  the  railroads  are  continually  making  im- 
provements with  a  view  to  add  to  the  comfort,  convenience 
-and  pleasure  of  the  traveler,  and  in  a  journey  such  as  one  from 


DEADWOOD  DICK  143 

Chicago  to  Los  Angeles,  for  instance,  there  is  no  time  to  stop 
for  meals  and  such  trivial  matters  as  a  shave,  as  time  is  money 
lost  to  most  of  the  passengers  and  to  the  railroad  company 
also.  For  that  reason  the  sleeping  car  is  provided  that  you 
may  sleep  with  as  much  comfort  as  if  you  were  in  your  own 
home,  the  dining  car  is  provided  to  furnish  you  a  good  meal 
on  the  fly  and  at  a  price  that  all  can  afford.  The  library  and 
drawing  room  cars  are  provided,  where  you  can  make  your- 
self as  comfortable  as  you  can  in  your  own  house.  The  porter 
will  get  your  morning  paper,  furnish  you  with  writing  ma- 
terials or  your  morning  high  ball,  and  look  after  you  like  a 
hen  after  her  brood. 

But  on  all  railroads  there  are  rules  governing  the  pas- 
sengers as  well  as  the  employees,  the  same  as  there  are  in  all 
lines  of  business.  A  passenger  may  not,  for  instance,  smoke 
in  the  body  of  the  Pullman  car,  but  must  retire  to  the 
drawing  room  or  his  stateroom.  As  an  instance  in  point,  I 
had  J.  J.  Corbett  for  a  passenger  in  my  car  between  Ogden 
and  Chicago,  a  gentleman  who  was  at  that  time  in  the  height 
of  his  career  and  naturally  thought  he  owned  the  earth  or  a 
large  part  of  it,  at  any  rate  he  came  in  the  sleeper  from  the 
dining  car,  lit  a  cigar,  propped  his  feet  upon  the  opposite  seat 
and  prepared  for  a  comfortable  smoke.  But  it  was  against 
the  rules  to  smoke  in  that  part  of  the  car,  so  I  approached 
him  and  politely  requested  him  not  to  smoke  in  that  part  of 
the  car.  He  regarded  me  a  few  moments  and  with  a  sneer 
said,  "So  you  are  Mr.  Pullman,  are  you?"  I  told  him  I  was 
not  Mr.  Pullman,  but  I  was  in  charge  of  one  of  Mr.  Pullman's 
cars,  and  for  that  reason  I  was  a  representative  of  Mr.  Pull- 
man, and  that  it  was  strictly  against  the  rules  to  smoke  in  that 
part  of  the  car,  and  that  if  he  wished  to  smoke  he  would  have 
to  go  to  the  drawing  room.  He  went,  but  the  sleeping  car 
conductor,  who  had  watched  the  incident,  told  me  I  had 
better  look  out  or  Corbett  would  have  my  scalp.  I  told  the 
conductor  I  was  not  scared  and  that  if  Corbett  hadn't  gotten 
out  I  would  have  thrown  him  out,  all  of  which  I  meant,  but 
the  conductor  shook  his  head  and  said  to  look  out.  Sure 
enough  the  matter  was  reported  to  the  superintendent,  but 


144  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

that  official  on  hearing  the  facts  in  the  matter  said  I  had  done 
perfectly  right,  and.  what  I  was  paid  to  do. 

It  is  necessary  that  all  passengers  as  well  as  all  employees 
shall  observe  the  rules  of  the  company,  for  the  benefit,  safety 
and  enjoyment  of  all  the  passengers  and  employees  alike. 

All  the  railroad  men  I  have  met  from  the  president  down 
have  all  proved  themselves  jolly  good  fellows,  kind,  consider- 
ate and  always  ready  to  render  assistance  and  service  to  those 
in  need,  but  at  the  same  time  they  are  strict  about  the  rules 
and  discipline.  Thoroughly  understanding  their  business 
themselves,  they  insist  on  the  beginner  obeying  instructions 
and  the  laws  of  the  road,  because  on  that  depends  the  lives  of 
hundreds  of  people,  and  the  value  of  thousands  of  dollars 
worth  of  property,  and  for  the  same  reason  they  are  expending 
thousands  of  dollars  annually  in  new  appliances,  inventions 
and  equipment,  that  will  add  to  the  saving  of  time  or  insure 
the  safety  of  the  traveler.  Among  the  new  inventions  adopted 
by  the  modern  railroads  are  the  "Block"  System,  which  makes 
collisions  between  two  trains  approaching  each  other  on  the 
same  track  almost  an  impossibility  if  the  engineer  is  awake 
and  attentive  to  business.  Under  this  system  when  the  trains 
approach  a  certain  distance  of  each  other  a  bell  is  rung  in 
the  cab  of  each  locomotive  simultaneously,  and  will  continue 
to  ring  until  the  danger  is  over.  This  with  the  powerful 
electric  headlights  now  used,  with  which  the  roadbed  is  lit 
up  for  a  distance  of  five  miles,  makes  a  head-on  collision 
almost  impossible,  while  the  air  brakes,  heavy  rails,  solid 
roadbed,  doing  away  with  the  sharp  curves  and  heavy  grades, 
all  add  to  the  safety  of  the  passengers  and  the  saving  of 
many  miles  in  travel  and  many  precious  moments.  It  has 
always  seemed  strange  to  me  that  so  many  Americans  rush 
off  to  Europe  and  foreign  countries  every  year  in  search  of 
health  and  pleasure,  or  to  climb  the  Alps  in  Switzerland,  and 
to  view  the  scenery  of  the  old  world,  when  our  own  North 
America,  the  new  world,  offers  so  many  better  opportunities 
to  study  Dame  Nature  in  all  her  phases,  and  I  always  say 
to  the  traveling  American,  "See  America."  How  many  of 
you  have  done  so?  Only  those  who  have  seen  this  grand 


This  is  Where  I  Shine.     Now  I  am  Out  for  the  Money 


DEADWOOD  DICK  145 

country  of  ours  can  justly  appreciate  the  grandeur  of  our 
mountains  and  rivers,  valley  and  plain,  canyon  and  gorge, 
lakes  and  springs,  cities  and  towns,  the  grand  evidences  of 
God's  handiwork  scattered  all  over  this  fair  land  over  which 
waves  the  stars  and  stripes.  Go  to  New  York  and  view  the 
tall  buildings,  the  Brooklyn  bridge,  the  subway,  study  the 
works  of  art  to  be  found  there,  both  in  statuary  and  painting, 
ponder  on  the  vast  volume  of  commerce  carried  on  with  the 
outside  world.  Note  the  many  different  styles  of  architecture 
displayed  in  the  palace  of  the  millionaire  and  the  house  of  the 
humble  tradesman,  view  the  magnificent  Hudson  river  and 
the  country  homes  along  its  grassy,  tree-lined  shores,  note 
the  ships  from  every  clime  riding  at  anchor  in  the  East  river. 
Then  speculate  on  the  changes  that  have  been  wrought  in  the 
course  of  the  short  time  since  Manhattan  Island  was  pur- 
chased from  the  Indians  by  Pete  Minuts  for  a  few  blankets 
and  -beads  amounting  in  value  to  $24.00.  Then  board  the 
Pennsylvania  Limited,  whose  trains  are  the  acme  of  modern 
railroading  and  go  to  Washington,  the  nation's  capital  city. 
Walk  along  Pennsylvania  avenue  and  note  its  beauty.  Visit 
the  capitol  and  let  your  chest  swell  out.  with  pride  that  you 
are  an  American.  Visit  the  tomb  of  General  Grant  and  the 
thousand  and  one  magnificent  statues  scattered  throughout 
the  city.  Visit  Annapolis  and  West.  Point,  where  the  leaders 
of  the  nation's  navy  and  army  are  trained.  Walk  over  the 
battlefields  of  Fredricksburg,  Gettysburg  and  Lexington,  and 
let  your  mind  speculate  on  the  events  that  made  modern  his- 
tory. 

Note  the  majestic  Potomac  and  the  Washington  monu- 
ment. Take  a  short  trip  north  and  see  the  great  Niagara 
Falls,  listen  to  what  they  tell  vou  in  their  mighty  roaring 
voice.  Go  to  Pittsburg  wher^  _ie  great  steel  works  are  lo- 
cated, and  see  how  the  steel  pen  and  the  steel  cannon  are 
made.  Go  to  Chicago,  that  western  hive  of  commerce.  See 
the  Great  Lakes,  or  better  still  take  a  cruise  on  them.  Note 
the  great  lumber  industry  of  Michigan,  and  the  traffic  of  the 
lakes.  Go  to  Kansas  City  and  Omaha  and  see  the  transforma- 
tion of  the  Texas  steer  into  the  corned  beef  you  ate  at  your 


I46  LIFE  AND   ADVENTURES  OF 

last  picnic,  or  was  it  chipped  beef?     See  the  immense  stock 
yards  with   their  thousands  of   cattle,  hogs   and   sheep,   and 
think  of  the  thousands  of  people  that  they  feed.     Cross  the 
Missouri  river  and  enter  on  the  plains  of  the  great  and  re- 
cently  unknown   west.     Think  of   the   pioneer  who   in    1849 
traversed  these  once  barren  stretches  of  prairie,  walking  be- 
side his   slow-moving  ox  team,   seeidng  the  promised   land, 
breaking  a  trail  for  the  generations  that  were  to  come  after 
him  as  you  are  coming  now  in  a  Pullman  car  .  Think  of  the 
dangers  that  beset  him  on  every  hand,  then  wonder  at  the 
nerve  he  had,  then  again  let  your  chest  swell  with  pride  that 
you  are  an  American,  sprung  from  the  same  stock  that  men 
were  composed  of  in  those  days.     Note  the  grandeur  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  as  they  rise  from  the  plains,  their  peaks 
snow-capped,  glistening  in  clear  blue  sky,  breathe  the  pure 
essence  of  life,  drink  of  the  crystal  streams  twinkling  down 
their  sides,  then  scorn  the  wine  made  by  man.     Listen  to  the 
salute  of  the  bells  and  the  whistles  as  the  trains  approach 
and  pass  that  strange  monument  of  nature's  handiwork,  the 
Mount  of  the  Holy  Cross. 

Go  to  the  Yellowstone  National  Park  and  revel  in  the 
wonders  thereof,  walk  in  the  garden  of  the  Gods  and  listen 
to  the  voice  of  the  Giant  Geyser  as  it  sends  forth  its  torrents 
of  boiling  water.  Bathe  in  the  life-giving  springs  and  mud 
baths.  Note  the  fantastic  forms  of  the  rocks  and  trees,  carved 
by  the  hand  of  nature,  then  go  to  Colorado  Springs  and  climb 
Pikes  Peak  and  behold  the  world  stretch  out  before  you  in 
valley,  mountain  and  plain.  Visit  the  mines  of  Leadville  and 
Cripple  Creek,  the  store  houses  of  a  part  of  the  nation's 
wealth.  Visit  Denver  and  see  the  strides  made  in  the  im- 
provement of  the  west  in  a  short  time.  Board  the  Denver  & 
Rio  Grande  train  and  note  the  magnificent  scenery  of  moun- 
tain, canyons,  gorges  and  the  beautiful  mountain  lakes  and 
streams,  note  the  Grand  Canyon  of  the  Colorado,  the  royal 
gorge.  Now  note  the  great  white  expanse  of  the  great  Salt 
Lake,  as  it  lies  glistening  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  and 
think  of  the  stories  you  have  heard  of  it  until  the  conductor 
brings  you  back  to  earth  with  the  cry  of  "Ogden." 


DEADWOOD  DICK  147 

Note  this  bustling  railroad  center  in  the  heart  of  the 
Rocky  mountains,  and  acknowledge  our  country's  greatness. 
Visit  Salt  Lake  City,  the  "City  of  Zion,"  the  Canaan  of  the 
new  world.  See  the  beautiful  city  nestling  within  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Warsatch  and  Oquirrh  range  of  mountains.  Walk 
its  wide  tree-lined  streets,  visit  the  tabernacle  and  hear  the 
sweet  strains  of  the  world's  greatest  organs.  See  the  Mormon 
temple.  Visit  Saltair  and  sport  in  the  waves  of  the  briny 
sea.  Board  the  San  Pedro,  Los  Angeles  and  Salt  Lake  west- 
bound train  and  cross  the  end  of  this  same  lake,  one  of  na- 
ture's wonders. 

Cross  the  desert  of  Nevada,  which  was  only  a  short  time 
ago  a  desert  waste,  on  and  on  until  you  smell  the  orange 
blossoms  of  sunny  California,  and  the  train  emerges  from 
the  mountains  and  brings  into  view  the  grand  Pacific  Ocean. 
See  the  big  trees  of  California,  the  seals  and  the  scenery  of 
the  Yosemite  valley.  Visit  the  orange  groves  and  the  vine- 
yards, and  partake  of  the  orange  and  the  grape.  Visit  Cata- 
lina  Island  in  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  try  a  couple  of  hours 
fishing  in  its  waters.  Then  take  the  Southern  Pacific  and  re- 
turn to  New  York  by  way  of  Arizona,  New  Mexico,  Texas, 
New  Orleans,  Florida  and  other  southern  states.  Then  again 
let  your  chest  swell  with  pride  that  you  are  an  American. 

I  think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  this  grand  country 
of  ours  is  the  peer  of  any  in  the  world,  and  that  volumes  can- 
not begin  to  tell  of  the  wonders  of  it.  Then  after  taking  such 
a  trip  you  will  say  with  me,  "See  America."  I  have  seen  a 
large  part  of  America,  and  am  still  seeing  it,  but  the  life  of  a 
hundred  years  would  be  all  too  short  to  see  our  country. 
America,  I  love  thee,  Sweet  land  of  Liberty,  home  of  the 
brave  and  the  free. 


CHAPTER  XXI, 

A  FEW  OF  THE  RAILROAD  MEN  UNDER  WHOM  I 
HAVE  SERVED.  GEORGE  M.  PULLMAN.  THE 
TOWN  OF  PULLMAN,  ILL.  AMERICAN  RAIL- 
ROADS LEAD  THE  WORLD.  A  FEW  FIGURES. 

Among  the  large  number  of  railroad  men  I  have  served 
under  and  worked  with  during  the  fifteen  years  I  have  been 
on  the  road  it.  gives  me  pleasure  to  recall  the  names  of  a  few 
with  whom  I  was  more  intimately  acquainted  and  to  whom 
I  am  indebted  for  many  favors  given  and  courtesies  extended, 
and  the  pleasant  duty  devolves  on  me  to  mention  the  always 
courteous,  obliging  and  most  competent  head  of  the  Pullman 
department  in  Denver,  Mr.  Runnells,  and  his  assistant,  Mr. 
Wright,  who  sent  me  out  on  my  first  run  in  1890.  Next  comes 
the  well  known  name  of  District  Superintendent  J.  M.  Smith, 
who  one  year  later  sent  me  out  on  the  run  that  marked  the 
beginning  of  my  Pullman  service.  To  Mr.  Smith  more  than 
to  any  other  railroad  man  I  am  indebted  for  advice,  counsel 
and  countless  favors  shown  me  while  I  was  in  the  service  in 
the  department  over  which  he  presided  so  long.  I  always 
found  him  courteous  and  obliging  and  never  too  busy  to 
listen  or  to  give  a  kind  word  of  advice  or  counsel  to  all  who 
approached  him  on  company  business  or  on  the  private  affairs 
of  the  employees  of  the  road.  I  had  charge  of  a  car  for  several 
years  in  his  territory  and  many  a  time  I  have  had  him  for  a 
passenger  and  at  such  times  he  seemed  more  like  an  old 
friend  than  he  did  like  the  superintendent  of  the  Pullman 
service. 

I  next  transferred  to  the  Ogden  division.  Here  I  met 
and  came  to  know  very  well  Superintendent  Baker  and  his 
assistant,  Johnnie  Scarce,  and  to  these  two  gentlemen  I  am 
also  indebted  for  many  favors  shown  me,  as  they  tried  in 
every  way  possible  to  make  my  employment  pleasant  and 
profitable  while  I  was  in  their  territory.  I  was  sent  out  on 


DEADWOOD  DICK  149 

runs  that  covered  the  greater  portions  of  the  United  States, 
and  while  on  some  of  my  longer  runs  I  often  started  from 
and  returned  to  stations  in  different  districts  under  different 
superintendents,  but  I  always  looked  on  Ogden  as  my  home 
station  and  Superintendent  Baker  as  my  chief  until  another 
superintendent  was  given  charge  of  the  district  and  I  trans- 
ferred to  Salt  Lake  and  started  to  run  on  Senator  Clark's  new 
road,  the  S.  P.,  L.  A.  &  S.  L.  road,  between  Salt  Lake  and 
Los  Angeles,  under  the  superintendency  of  Mr.  Twining  and 
his  assistant,  Mr.  Gotten,  and  these  gentlemen  also  during 
the  time  I  have  been  with  them  have  shown  me  every  favor 
and  consideration,  which  goes  far  towards  making  my  work 
a  pleasure.  In  this  connection  also  I  mention  the  names  of 
Jim  Donohue,  traveling  engineer;  W.  H.  Smith,  trainmaster, 
and  P.  Randoff  Morris  and  Jos.  Jones,  special  agents,  all  jolly 
railroad  men  from  A  to  Izard. 

During  my  fifteen  years'  service  I  have  met  and  served 
under  many  different  superintendents  and  to  mention  the 
names  of  them  all,  would  require  a  separate  volume,  but  I 
will  always  hold  them  in  kindly  remembrance  as  they  all  have 
without  exception  been  kindness  itself  to  me. 

Another  old  friend  I  have  recently  met  on  the  steel  road 
is  William  H.  Blood,  at  present  one  of  the  popular  conductors 
on  the  San  Pedro,  Los  Angeles  &  Salt  Lake  Railroad.  In  the 
early  seventies  "Billy"  was  one  of  the  best  cowboys  ranging 
over  the  western  cattle  country.  He  was  with  me  on  many 
of  the  old  trails  and  in  many  a  tight  place,  and  like  myself 
he  always  came  out  right  side  up  with  care  and  none  the  worse 
for  wear. 

E.  W.  Gillett,  at  present  general  passenger  agent  of  the 
Salt  Lake  road,  and  one  of  the  best  known  and  most  popular 
railroad  men  of  the  west,  is  another  friend  of  the  old  days  it 
is  my  pleasure  to  meet  often  now.  I  first  met  him  under  the 
following  circumstances.  I  think  it  was  in  the  year  1874 
along  in  the  fall,  I  had  been  up  the  trail  with  some  cattle 
and  was  returning  through  Wyoming  en  route  to  Arizona.  I 
had  been  riding  hard  all  day  and  as  it  began  to  get  dark  I 
sighted  a  small  station  on  the  main  line  of  the  Union  Pacific, 


150  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

and  I  concluded  to  give  it  a  passing  call  out  of  curiosity.  As 
I  drew  near  T  noticed  several  rough-looking  customers  hang- 
ing around  in  a  suspicious  manner,  and  I  at  once  concluded 
that  they  were  robbers  there  for  the  purpose  of  holding  up 
the  station.  Events  immediately  following  proved  that  I  was 
right.  They  had  not  noticed  me  and  they  proceeded  to  hold 
up  the  agent  in  true  western  style,  but  that  they  had  caught  a 
tartar  was  evidenced  by  the  rattle  of  the  agent's  artillery.  Of 
course  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  me  to  miss  such  fun, 
so  not  waiting  for  an  invitation  I  lost  no  time  in  getting  my 
own  forty-fives  in  active  operation,  and  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it  what  was  left  of  those  greasers  were  making 
tracks  for  the  nearest  state  line,  while  a  red-headed  youngster 
with  a  smoking  45  in  his  fist  was  shaking  hands  with  me  and 
trying  to  say  something  about  my  saving  his  life.  I  took  a 
shine  to  him  at  once  on  account  of  his  pluck  and  our  friend- 
ship thus  begun  has  lasted  through  the  years  until  now  time 
.and  fate  have  thrown  us  both  together  on  the  same  line  of 
railroad. 

The  railroad  men  as  a  class  are  the  most  jovial  set  of 
men  one  could  find  in  any  profession,  well  educated,  broad 
minded,  and  always  considerate  of  others  and  at  the  same 
time  they  know  their  business  thoroughly,  as  they  have  to 
serve  many  years  as  apprentices,  so  to  speak,  in  railroading^ 
before  they  are  given  places  of  trust  and  responsibility,  and 
the  man  who  has  reached  the  position  of  president  or  general 
manager  of  a  railroad  system,  has  learned  pretty  much  all 
there  is  to  be  learned  about  the  iron  horse  and  the  steel  road, 
and  they  use  that  knowledge  in  providing  for  the  safety  and 
comfort  of  the  millions  of  lives  that  are  annually  intrusted 
to  their  keeping. 

The  general  manager  is  responsible  not  only  for  the  lives 
of  the  traveling  public,  but  of  the  army  or  railroad  employes 
under  him  and  he  is  supposed  to  know  everything,  and  must 
always  be  prepared  to  do  the  right  thing  in  the  right  place  at 
the  right  time,  and  as  in  many  cases  life  and  death  depend 
on  it,  he  must  know  how. 

A  college  education  does  not  make  a  railroad  manager, 


The  Close  of  My  Railroad  Career 


DEADWOOD  DICK  151 

although  it  may  help  to  do  so.  He  in  a  great,  measure  gets 
his  education  in  the  school  of  experience,  and  in  some  cases 
it  is  a  hard  school,  and  the  most  exacting  of  all  schools,  but 
at  the  same  time  it  is  a  school  in  which  one  can  learn  any- 
thing under  the  sun,  and  learn  it  well,  and  in  these  days  of 
the  twentieth  century's  activity  and  progress,  it  is  the  man 
who  knows  how  to  do  things  that  makes  the  world  move. 
And  after  boiling  everything  down  there  is  left  in  the  pot  two 
undisputable  facts.  They  are  that  the  railroad  men  cause 
the  world  to  move  by  knowing  how  to  do  things,  the  other 
is  that  the  railroad  men  move  the  people  who  live  in  the 
world,  thus  they  move  things/  all  around.  And  they  are  con- 
tinually on  the  move  themselves,  which  goes  to  prove  that 
they  are  different  from  many  other  people  inasmuch  as  they 
practice  what  they  preach.  And  from  these  men  of  all  classes 
from  the  president  down  I  have  received  courtesies  and  the 
kindest  of  consideration,  and  these  pleasant  associations  are 
pleasant  memories  to  me  and  will  always  remain  so  . 

It  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  and  to  chat  with  George  M. 
Pullman,  the  father  of  the  sleeping  car,  several  times,  and  I 
found  him  to  be  a  fine  man,  broad-minded  in  every  sense  of 
the  word,  always  approachable  and  with  always  a  kind  word 
for  every  one  of  the  large  army  of  his  employees  that  he  met 
on  his  travels,  and  he  always  tried  to  meet  them  all.  It  was 
also  my  pleasure  to  meet  his  two  boys  who  are  veritable 
chips  of  the  old  block. 

One  of  the  legends  connected  with  the  western  mining 
history  is  that  early  in  the  6os  George  M.  Pullman  was  a  poor 
prospector  and  had  secured  a  lease  on  a  piece  of  mining 
ground  in  Colorado,  and  that  he  formed  the  idea  of  the  sleep- 
ing car  from  the  tiers  of  bunks  in  the  miners'  lodging  house, 
"bunk  houses"  they  are  called.  However  that  may  be  Mr. 
Pullman  has  been  the  recipient  of  many  a  blessing  from  the 
weary  traveler,  and  the  idea,  whatever  it  was,  that  led  him  to 
invent  the  sleeping  car  that  has  proved  such  a  comfort  to  the 
traveler  of  today,  deserves  to  go  down  in  history  as  the 
greatest  idea  that  ever  came  from  the  place  where  ideas  come 
from. 


152  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

It  has  been  my  pleasure  to  visit  all  the  large  shops  of 
the  Pullman  company,  including  the  town  of  Pullman,  111., 
which  is  a  good-sized  city,  namejd  after  Mr.  Pullman,  and  was 
owned  by  him  principally,  and  the  large  number  of  men  em- 
ployed in  his  shops  there.  The  town  contains  fine  churches 
and  public  buildings,  a  splendid  library  and  reading  rooms 
and  amusement  halls.  And  while  I  was  there  I  failed  to  see 
a  single  saloon.  It  seems  such  places  are  tabooed  there.  The 
shops  are  the  finest  in  this  country,  containing  all  the  modern 
machinery  of  the  finest  kind  and  the  men  employed  there  are 
all  past  masters  of  their  trades.  Here  are  built  all  the  finest 
sleeping  cars  and  many  of  the  finest  special  cars  and  rail- 
way cars  seen  on  the  railroads  of  this  country.  In  addition 
there  is  also  a  very  large  amount  of  repairing  done.  As  soon 
as  anything  goes  wrong  with  a  Pullman  car  it  is  at  once  sent 
into  the  shops  for  repair,  and  soon  comes  out  in  apple  pie 
order.  You  may  see  the  Pullman  cars  all  over  this  country 
where  there  is  a  steel  road,  and  other  countries  have  their 
eyes  on  the  mof  late,  and  in  the  near  future  it  will  be  possible 
to  sleep  in  a  Pullman  car  whether  you  are  traveling  in  Eng- 
land, France,  Sweden  or  Cihna.  They  are  a  good  thing  and 
are  sure  to  be  pushed  or  rather  pulled  along. 

In  1893  I  went  to  Mr.  Pullman  and  told  him  I  was  think- 
ing of  getting  the  porters  of  the  Pullman  Car  Company  to 
club  together  and  contribute  fifty  cents  per  month  apiece  for 
the  purpose  of  investing  the  proceeds  in  land,  in  view  of 
eventually  owning  what  we  would  call  "The  Porters'  Home." 
Mr.  Pullman  told  me  he  thought  that  a  good  idea,  and  said 
if  we  succeeded  in  buying  one  thousand  acres  of  land,  he 
would  erect  us  a  building  on  it,  and  signed  a  statement  to 
that  effect. 

I  then  went  to  work  and  communicated  with  all  the  divi- 
sions of  the  Pullman  Company,  presenting  this  proposition 
to  the  porters  of  these  different  districts,  but  only  succeeded 
in  getting  about  twenty-five  subscribers,  the  rest  of  them 
refusing  to  go  into  such  a  proposition,  some  of  them  saying 
all  I  wanted  was  to  get  the  money  and  make  away  with  it. 
Inasmuch  as  this  amount  was  to  be  sent  to  the  main  Pullman 


DEADWOOD  DICK  153 

office  in  Chicago  and  I  was  to  be  there  each  month  to  see 
this  money  deposited.  Others  refused  to  go  into  it  upon  the 
ground  that  they  were  liable  to  be  discharged  from  the  Pull- 
man service  at  any  time,  and  many  other  various  excuses  were 
offered.  There  were  many  of  the  Pullman  conductors,  how- 
ever, who  promised  to  contribute  from  one  to  five  dollars 
toward  this  enterprise  when  we  were  ready  to  purchase  the 
land. 

My  object  was  to  have  a  Home  and  Hospital,  with  ad- 
joining farming  land,  for  the  benefit  of  old  and  disabled 
porters  who  were  not  able  to  perform  their  duties  as  Pullman 
car  porters.  Had  this  been  accomplished  at  that  time,  we 
would  by  now  have  had  a  large  farm  and  a  house  and  hospital 
connected  therewith,  and  all  the  porters  who  are  now  unable 
to  work  would  have  had  a  good  home  and  be  cared  for  the 
rest  of  their  lives.  I  hope  to  live  long  enough  to  yet  see  this 
plan  become  a  reality. 

At  present  the  American  railway  leads  the  world.  In 
no  other  country  does  the  traveler  find  so  much  comfort,  so 
many  conveniences,  so  much  pleasure,  safety  and  speed  as 
does  the  dweller  in  this  robust  young  country  belonging  to 
our  Uncle  Samuel.  At  the  present  time  there  are  in  the 
United  States  upwards  of  two  hundred  and  sixty  thousand 
miles  of  railroad  open  and  in  operation,  not  to  mention  several 
thousand  miles  now  building  and  projected.  This  immense 
mileage  is  divided  between  over  one  thousand  different  roads, 
while  in  1851  there  were  only  149  different  railroads  with  a 
total  mileage  of  9000  miles.  The  railroads  today  have  a  capi- 
tal back  of  them  amounting  to  over  $14,000,000,000,  and  they 
pay  their  employees  wages  that  foot  up  over  $7,000,000  an- 
nually, while  their  earnings  amount  to  the  tidy  sum  of  $2,- 
500,000,000  in  the  same  length  of  time.  They  carry  somewhat 
more  than  800,000,000  passengers  every  twelve  months,  and 
2,200,000,000  tons  of  freight.  These  figures  do  not  include 
the  several  million  tons  of  trunks,  sachels,  grips,  hat  boxes 
and  carpet  bags  that  the  average  traveler  considers  it  neces- 
sary to  load  him  or  herself  down  with  on  starting  on  a  journey 
of  any  distance,  and  which  comes  in  such  large  quantities 
sometimes  as  to  make  life  a  burden  for  us  porters. 


154  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

Read  these  figures  again,  dear  reader,  they  are  a  conserva- 
tive estimate  of  the  business  transacted  by  the  railroads  of 
this  fair  land  of  ours.  You  can  count  a  million,  can  you 
count  a  billion?  Immense,  isn't  it?  It  seems  to  show  that 
the  people  of  this  country  are  great  travelers,  forever  on  the 
move,  yet  they  tell  us  this  is  a  country  of  homes  and  that  the 
average  American  loves  his  home  and  home  life  above  all 
things.  These  figures  seem  to  show  there  are  a  few  people 
who  havn't  any  home  or  if  they  have  they  are  looking  for 
one  they  like  better,  which,  like  the  will  of  the  wisp,  evades 
them  always,  but  they  continue  to  shift  around,  always  hope- 
ful, never  satisfied,  and  they  will  continue  to  shift  around 
until  Gabriel  blows  on  his  little  tin  horn. 

But  this  class  of  people  make  but  a  small  percentage  of 
the  traveling  public.  Business  in  this  latter  day  of  strife  and 
competition  makes  long  journeys  necessary,  and  as  the  busi- 
ness of  the  world  grows  apace  and  the  countries  of  the  earth 
crowd  closer  together  in  the  struggle  for  the  almighty  dollar, 
there  will  be  need  of  more  railroads  to  make  the  globe  smaller 
and  to  cut  off  the  hours  and  minutes  of  precious  time  that 
means  money  to  the  man  of  today.  And  as  a  man  makes  and 
saves  money  so  will  he  spend  it  for  the  pleasure  of  himself 
and  family,  and  as  he  must  travel  to  find  pleasure  there  must 
be  railroads  to  carry  him,  and  hence  these  figures  I  write  now 
will  look  insignificant  beside  the  magnificent  total  that  will 
be  put  before  the  reader  of  that  day,  because  if  they  increase 
in  the  next  century  as  they  have  in  the  past,  walking  will  be 
out  of  fashion  and  every  body  will  ride  and  I  hope  sleep  in  a 
Pullman  sleeping  car. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A  FEW  REMINISCENCES  OF  THE  RANGE.  SOME 
MEN  I  HAVE  MET.  BUFFALO  BILL.  THE  JAMES 
BROTHERS.  YELLOWSTONE  KELLEY.  THE  MUR- 
DER OF  BUCK  CANNON  BY  BILL  WOODS.  THE 
SUICIDE  OF  JACK  ZIMICK. 


It  has  now  been  many  years  since  I  quit  the  range,  and  as 
my  mind  wanders  back  over  those  years  as  it  often  does, 
memories  both  pleasant  and  sad  pass  in  review  and  it  is  but 
fitting  that  I  record  a  few  of  them  as  a  final  to  the  history  of 
my  life  which  has  been  so  full  of  action,  which  is  but  natural 
as  the  men  of  those  days  were  men  of  action.  They  had  to 
be,  and  probably  their  actions  were  not  all  good,  that  I  freely 
admit,  but  while  that  is  so,  it  is  equally  so  that  their  actions 
were  not  all  bad,  far  from  it.  And  in  the  history  of  the 
frontier  there  is  recorded  countless  heroic  deeds  performed, 
deeds  and  actions  that  required  an  iron  nerve,  self  denial  in 
all  that  these  words  imply,  the  sacrificing  of  one  life  to  save 
the  life  of  a  stranger  or  a  friend.  Deeds  that  stamped  the 
men  of  the  western  plains  as  men  worthy  to  be  called  men, 
and  while  not  many  of  them  would  shine  particularly  in  the 
polite  society  of  today  or  among  the  400  of  Gotham,  yet  they 
did  shine  big  and  bright  in  the  positions  and  at  a  time  when 
men  lived  and  died  for  a  principle,  and  in  the  line  of  duty. 
A  man  who  went  to  the  far  west  or  who  claimed  it  as  his 
home  in  the  early  days  found  there  a  life  far  different  from 
that  led  by  the  dude  of  Fifth  Avenue.  There  a  man's  work 
was  to  be  done,  and  a  man's  life  to  be  lived,  and  when  death 
was  to  be  met,  he  met  it  like  a  man.  It  was  among  such  men 
and  surroundings  that  I  spent  so  many  years  of  my  life  and 
there  I  met  men  some  of  whom  are  famous  now,  while  others 
never  lived  long  enough  to  reach  the  pinnacle  of  fame,  but 
their  memory  is  held  no  less  sacred  by  the  men  who  knew 
them  well. 


156  LIEF  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

Some  men  I  met  in  the  cattle  country  are  now  known  to 
the  world  as  the  baddest  of  bad  men,  yet  I  have  seen  these 
men  perform  deeds  of  valor,  self  sacrifice  and  kindness  that 
would  cause  the  deeds  recorded  as  performed  by  gentlemen 
in  "ye  olden  time  when  knighthood  was  in  flower"  to  look 
insignificant  in  comparison,  and  yet  these  men  lay  no  claim 
to  the  title  of  gentlemen.  They  were  just  plain  men. 

It  was  my  pleasure  to  meet  often  during  the  early  sev- 
enties the  man  who  is  now  famous  in  the  old  world  and  the 
new  world,  Buffalo  Bill  (William  F.  Cody),  cowboy,  ranger, 
hunter,  scout  and  showman,  a  man  who  carried  his  life  in  his 
hands  day  and  night  in  the  wild  country  where  duty  called, 
and  has  often  bluffed  the  grim  reaper  Death  to  a  standstill, 
and  is  living  now,  hale,  hearty  and  famous. 

Others  who  are  equally  famous  but  in  another  way  are 
the  James  brothers,  Jesse  and  Frank.  I  met  them  often  in  the 
old  days  on  the  range,  and  became  very  well  acquainted  with 
them  and  many  others  of  their  band.  Their  names  are  record- 
ed in  history  as  the  most  famous  robbers  of  the  new  world, 
but  to  us  cowboys  of  the  cattle  country  who  knew  them  well, 
they  were  true  men,  brave,  kind,  generous  and  considerate, 
and  while  they  were  robbers  and  bandits,  yet  what  they  took 
from  the  rich  they  gave  to  the  poor.  The  James  brothers 
band  stole  thousands  of  dollars ;  yet  Jesse  was  a  poor  man 
when  he  fell  a  victim  to  the  bullet  of  a  cowardly,  traitorous 
assassin,  and  Frank  James  is  a  poor  man  today.  What  then 
did  they  do  with  the  thousands  they  stole?  The  answer  is 
simple,  they  gave  it  away  to  those  who  were  in  need.  That 
is  why  they  had  so  many  friends  and  the  officers  of  the  law 
found  it  so  hard  to  capture  them. 

And  if  they  were  robbers,  by  what  name  are  we  to  call 
some  of  the  great  trusts,  corporations  and  brokers,  who  have 
for  years  been  robbing  the  people  of  this  country,  some  of 
them,  I  am  glad  to  say,  are  now  behind  prison  bars,  still 
others  are  even  now  piling  up  the  dollars  that  they  have  been 
and  are  still  stealing  from  the  American  people,  and  who  on 
account  of  these  same  dollars  are  looked  up  to,  respected  and 
are  honored  members  of  society,  and  the  only  difference  be- 


DEADWOOD  DICK  157 

tween  them  and  the  James  brothers  is  that  the  James  brothers 
stole  from  the  rich  and  gave  to  the  poor,  while  these  respected 
members  of  society  steal  from  the  poor  to  make  the  rich 
richer,  and  which  of  them  think  you  reader,  will  get  the  benefit 
of  the  judgment  when  the  final  day  arrives  and  all  men  appear 
before  the  great  white  throne  in  final  judgment? 

Jessie  James  was  a  true  man,  a  loving  son  and  husband, 
true  to  his  word,  true  to  his  principles  and  true  to  his  com- 
rads  and  his  friends.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Frank 
James  quite  recently  on  the  road  while  he  was  en  route  to  the 
coast  with  his  theatrical  company  and  enjoyed  a  pleasant 
chat  with  him.  He  knew  me  and  recalled  many  incidents  of 
the  old  days  and  happenings  in  "no  man's  land." 

Quite  a  different  sort  of  man  was  Yellowstone  Kelley, 
government  scout,  hunter  and  trapper.  He  was  one  of  the 
men  who  helped  to  make  frontier  history  and  open  up  the 
pathless  wilds  to  the  march  of  civilization.  He  was  in  the 
employ  of  the  government  as  a  scout  and  guide  when  I  first 
met  him,  and  thereafter  during  our  many  wanderings  over 
the  country,  I  with  my  cattle,  he  with  Uncle  Sam's  soldiers 
or  on  a  lone  scout,  we  often  bumped  up  against  each  other, 
and  these  meetings  are  among  my  treasured  memories.  He 
was  a  man  who  knew  the  country  better  than  he  knew  his 
own  mother,  absolutely  fearless,  kind  and  generous  to  a  fault. 
He  was  the  sort  of  a  man  that  once  you  meet,  him  you  could 
never  forget  him,  and  us  boys  who  knew  him  well  considered 
him  the  chief  of  all  the  government  scouts  of  that  day.  I 
also  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Kit  Carson  in  Arizona  and 
nearly  all  the  government  scouts,  hunters  and  trappers  of 
the  western  country,  and  they  can  all  be  described  in  one 
sentence,  they  were  men  whom  it  was  a  pleasure  and  an  honor 
to  know. 

"Billie  the  Kid"  was  another  sort  of  a  man  and  there  has 
never  been  another  man  like  him  and  I  don't  think  there  ever 
will  be  again.  Writers  claim  that  he  was  a  man  all  bad.  This 
I  doubt  as  I  knew  him  well  and  I  have  known  him  to  do 
deeds  of  kindness.  He  had  many  traits  that  go  to  make  a 
good  man,  but  fate  and  circumstances  were  against  the  kid, 


iS8  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES  OF 

yet  I  know  he  always  remembered  a  kindness  done  him  and 
he  never  forgave  an  enemy.  I  have  rode  by  his  side  many  a 
long  mile,  and  it  is  hard  to  believe  he  was  as  bad  as  he  is 
pictured  to  be,  but  the  facts  are  against  him,  and  when  his 
career  was  ended  by  the  bullet  from  Sheriff  Garrett's  colt, 
the  world  was  better  off!,  -likewise  were  some  men  who  stood 
in  mortal  fear  of  the  kid,  and  I  suppose  they  had  good  reason 
to  be  afraid  as  the  kid  always  kept  his  word. 

During  my  employment  with  the  Duval  outfit  and  Pete 
Gallingan  I  often  made  trips  on  the  trail  with  herds  of  cattle 
and  horses  belonging  to  other  ranch  owners,  and  on  these 
trips  many  incidents  occurred,  amusing  and  sad.  The  follow- 
ing incident  happened  in  the  fall  of  1878,  when  I  went  up  the 
trail  with  the  half  circle  box  brand  outfit,  belonging  to  Arthur 
Gorman  and  company. 

We  had  a  small  herd  of  horses  to  take  to  Dodge  City, 
where  we  arrived  after  an  uneventful  trip,  and  after  disposing 
of  the  horses  we  started  out  to  do  the  town  as  usual.  But 
in  this  we  met  an  unexpected  snag.  Our  bookkeeper,  Jack 
Zimick,  got  into  a  poker  game  and  lost  all  the  money  he 
had  to  pay  the  cowboys  off  with,  which  amounted  to  about 
two  thousand  dollars,  and  also  about  the  same  amount  of  the 
boss'  money.  The  boys  had  about  one  and  a  half  years' 
wages  coming  to  them,  and  consequently  they  were  in  a 
rather  bad  humor  when  they  heard  this  bit  of  news.  They 
at  once  got  after  Zimick  so  hard  that  he  took  me  and  went 
to  Kinsely,  Kas.,  where  Mr.  Gorman  was.  Arriving  there 
he  went  to  the  Smith  saloon  to  get  a  room,  as  Smith  ran  a 
rooming  house  over  his  saloon,  and  it  was  the  custom  for  all 
the  cattle  men  to  make  it  their  headquarters  when  in  the 
city.  Here  he  met  Mr.  Gorman,  and  we  were  sitting  around 
the  room  and  Zimick  had  only  told  Mr.  Gorman  a  few  things, 
when  all  of  a  sudden  Zimick  drew  his  45  colt  revolver  re- 
marking as  he  did  so,  "Here  is  the  last,  of  Jack  Zimick."  He 
placed  the  gun  to  his  head  and  before  we  could  reach  him  he 
pulled  the  trigger,  and  his  brains  were  scattered  all  over  the 
room. 


DEADWOOD  DICK  159 

They  arrested  Mr.  Gorman  and  myself  and  held  up  for  a 
short  time  until  things  could  be  explained.  Mr.  Gorman  was 
very  much  overcome  by  the  act,  as  Jack  was  one  of  his  best 
men,  and  had  been  with  him  a  long  time.  Mr.  Gorman  had1 
the  body  sent  to  Zimick's  friends  in  Boston,  and  he  personally 
paid  off  all  the  boys,  taking1  the  money  out  of  his  own  pocket 
to  do  so,  but  when  the  boys  heard  of  Jack's  rash  deed  they 
said  they  would  rather  have  lost  every  dollar  they  had,  rather 
than  have  had  Jack  kill  himself,  as  he  was  a  favorite  amongf 
all  the  cowboys,  especially  so  among  those  in  Mr.  Gorman's 
employ.  Zimick  had  been  in  the  employ  of  Gorman  and 
company  for  over  ten  years  and  he  was  Mr.  Gorman's  right 
hand  man,  and  this  was  the  first  time  he  ever  went  wrong. 
Jack  did  not  have  the  nerve  to  face  his  comrades  again,  and 
so  I  suppose  he  concluded  that  his  colt  45  was  the  only  friend 
he  had  to  help  him  out  of  it. 

In  May  1882,  I  was  in  Durango,  Colorado,  and  chanced 
to  be  in  a  saloon  on  Main  street  where  a  lot  of  us  boys  were 
together,  among  them  being  Buck  Cannon  and  Bill  Woods. 
The  drinks  had  been  circulating  around  pretty  freely  when 
Cannon  and  Woods  got  into  a  dispute  over  Cannon's  niece,  to 
whom  Woods  had  been  paying  attention,  much  against  that 
young  lady's  wish.  After  some  hot.  words  between  the  men, 
Woods  drew  his  45  colt  revolver,  remarking  as  he  did  so,  "I 
will  kill  you,"  and  in  raising  it  his  finger  must  have  slipped, 
as  his  gun  went  off  and  the  bullet  hit  a  glass  of  beer  in  the 
hand  of  a  man  who  was  in  the  act  of  raising  it  to  his  lips, 
scattering  the  broken  glass  all  over  the  room,  then  passing 
through  the  ceiling  of  the  saloon.  In  an  instant  Woods  threw 
three  bullets  into  Cannon,  remarking  as  he  did  so,  "I  will  kill 
you,  for  your  niece  is  my  heart's  delight  and  I  will  die  for 
her."  Buck  Cannon's  dying  words  were,  "Boys,  don't  let  a 
good  man  die  with  his  boots  on." 

•Along  in  the  spring  of  1879  we  sent  to  Dodge  City,  Kan- 
sas, with  a  herd  of  cattle  for  the  market  and  after  they  were 
disposed  of,  we  boys  turned  our  attention  to  the  search  of 
amusement.  Some  of  the  boys  made  for  the  nearest  saloon 
and  card  table,  but  I  heard  there  was  to  be  a  dance  at  Bill 


160  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

Smith's  dance  hall  and  in  company  with  some  of  the  other 
boys  decided  to  attend.  There  was  always  quite  a  large  num- 
ber of  cowboys  in  Dodge  City  at  this  time  of  the  year,  so  we 
were  not  surprised  to  find  the  dance  hall  crowded  on  our  ar- 
rival there.  Smith's  place  occupied  a  large,  low  frame  build- 
ing down  by  the  railroad  tracks  on  the  south.  We  found 
many  old  acquaintances  there,  among  them  being  Kiowa  Bill, 
a  colored  cattle  man  and  ranch  owner  of  Kansas,  whose  ranch 
was  on  Kiowa  creek.  I  had  met  him  several  times  but  this 
was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  him  in  a  couple  of  years,  but  as 
he  was  dancing  with  a  young  lady  I  could  not  get  to  speak 
with  him  at  once.  So  I  looked  up  a  wall  flower  and  proceeded 
to  enjoy  myself.  We  had  not  been  dancing  long  when  I  be- 
came aware  of  a  commotion  over  near  the  bar,  and  all  eyes 
were  turned  in  that  direction.  I  soon  ascertained  the  cause 
of  the  commotion  to  be  a  dispute  between  Kiowa  Bill  and  Bill 
Smith,  the  proprietor  of  the  place,  who  was  behind  the  bar. 
Kiowa  Bill,  after  finishing  the  dance  with  his  fair  partner, 
took  her  to  the  bar  to  treat  her.  Smith,  who  was  tending  bar 
refused  to  serve  her  saying  she  had  enough  already.  Kiowa 
Bill  told  Smith  he  (Kiowa  Bill)  was  paying  for  what  she 
wanted  to  drink  and  that  he  wanted  her  to  get  what  she 
wanted.  Smith  said  no,  she  could  not  have  anything  more  to 
drink  as  she  had  too  much  already.  At  this  Kiowa  Bill  reach- 
ed over  the  bar  and  struck  Smith  over  the  head  with  a  whis- 
key bottle,  partly  stunning  him,  but  he  recovered  in  an  in- 
stant and  grabbed  his  45  Colt,  Kiowa  Bill  doing  the  same  and 
both  guns  spoke  as  one.  Smith  fell  dead  behind  the  bar  with 
a  bullet  through  his  heart.  Kiowa  Bill  rolled  against  the  bar 
and  slowly  sank  to  the  floor  and  was  dead  when  we  reached 
him. 

The  next  day  they  were  hauled  to  the  cemetery,  laying 
side  by  side  in  the  same  wagon,  and  were  buried  side  by  side 
in  the  same  grave.  Kiowa  Bill  had  made  his  will  a  short  time 
before  and  it  was  found  on  his  body  when  he  was  killed. 

I  had  known  Kiowa  Bill  for  several  years  and  was  present 
at  a  shooting  scrape  he  had  two  years  before,  down  in  Texas, 
near  the  Arizona  line.  At  one  of  the  big  round  ups  there,-  in 
1877,  myself  and  quite  a  crowd  of  the  other  boys  were  in 


DEADWOOD  DICK  i6f 

camp  eating  our  dinner  when  Kiowa  Bill  rode  up.  He  had 
been  looking  after  his  own  cattle  as  he  owned  over  two  thou- 
sand head  himself.  One  of  the  boys  in  our  party  who  did  not 
like  Bill,  there  being  a  feud  between  them  for  sometime,  on 
noticing  Bill  approaching,  remarked,  "If  that  fellow  comes 
here  I  will  rope  him."  True  to  his  word  as  Bill  rode  up,  the 
cowboy  threw  his  lariat.  Kiowa  Bill,  seeing  the  movement, 
threw  the  rope  off  at  the  same  time  springing  down  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  his  horse. 

The  cowboy,  enraged  at  his  failure  to  rope  Bill,  shouted, 
"I  will  fight  you  from  the  point  of  a  jack  knife,  to  the  point 
of  a  45,"  at  the  same  time  reaching  for  his  45  which  was  in 
the  holster  on  his  saddle,  which  was  lying  on  the  ground  a 
short  distance  away.  At  that  Kiowa  Bill  fired,  striking  the 
cowboy  in  the  neck,  breaking  it.  Bill  then  sprang  in  the  sad- 
dle and  put  spurs  to  his  horse  in  an  effort  to  get  away. 

Several  of  the  cowboys  commenced  shooting  after  Bill 
who  returned  the  fire.  One  of  the  cowboys,  squatting  down 
and  holding  his  45  with  both  hands,  in  an  effort  to  get  a  bet- 
ter aim  on  Bill,  received  a  bullet  in  the  leg  from  Bill's  revol- 
ver that  knocked  him  over  backwards,  and  caused  him  to  turn 
a  couple  of  somersaults.  Bill  got  away  and  went  to  New 
York.  He  was  later  arrested  in  St.  Louis  and  brought  back. 
At  his  trial  he  went  free  as  it  was  shown  that  he  killed  the 
cowboy  in  self-defense.  And  his  appearance  at  the  dance  Was 
the  first  time  I  had  seen  him  since  the  scrape  in  Texas. 

Kiowa  Bill  was  of  a  peaceful  disposition  and  always  re- 
frained from  bothering  with  others,  but  if  others  bothered 
with  him  they  were  liable  to  get  killed  as  Kiowa  Bill  allowed 
no  one  to  monkey  with  him.  Such  was  life  on  the  western 
ranges  when  I  rode  them,  and  such  were  my  comrades  and 
surroundings ;  humor  and  tragedy.  In  the  midst  of  life  we 
were  in  death,  but  above  all  shown  the  universal  manhood. 
The  wild  and  free  life.  The  boundless  plains.  The  countless 
thousands  of  long  horn  steers,  the  wild  fleet  footed  mustangs. 
The  buffalo  and  other  game,  the  Indians,  the  delight  of  living, 
and  the  fights  against  death  that  caused  every  nerve  to  tingle, 
and  the  every  day  communion  with  men,  whose  minds  were 


162  LIFE  AND  ADVENTURES   OF 

as  broad  as  the  plains  they  roamed,  and  whose  creed  was 
every  man  for  himself  and  every  friend  for  each  other,  and 
with  each  other  till  the  end. 

Another  friend  of  the  old  times  is  Chas.  R.  Campbell, 
superintendent  of  the  Kelso  mines.  Chats  with  these  good 
whole-souled  people  of  the  cattle  range  bring  back  remini- 
scences of  the  past  that  would  fill  volumes  but  space  and  time 
in  these  days  of  hustle  and  bustle  are  but  dreams  and  the 
world  is  full  of  them  now. 

I  am  at  the  present  time  connected  with  the  General  Se- 
curities Company  in  Los  Angeles.  Mr.  A.  A.  C.  Ames  is 
president;  Mr.  James  O.  Butler,  vice-president;  Mr.  Jacob  E. 
Meyer,  secretary,  and  Mr.  Geo.  W.  Bishop,  treasurer.  These 
gentlemen  are  always  extremely  kind  to  me  and  the  apprecia- 
tion I  feel  for  the  kindnesses  shown  me  will  be  fully  rewarded. 

As  I  stop  to  ponder  over  the  days  of  old  so  full  of  adven- 
ture and  excitement,  health  and  happiness,  love  and  sorrow, 
isn't  it  a  wonder  that  some  of  us  are  alive  to  tell  the  tale.  One 
moment  we  are  rejoicing  that  we  are  alive;  the  next  we  are  so 
near  the  jaws  of  death  that  it  seems  it  would  be  almost  a 
miracle  that  our  lives  be  saved. 

Life  today  on  the  cattle  range  is  almost  another  epoch. 
Laws  have  been  enacted  in  New  Mexico  and  Arizona  which 
forbid  all  the  old-time  sports  and  the  cowboy  is  almost  a  being 
of  the  past.  But,  I,  Nat  Love,  now  in  my  54th  year,  hale  hearty 
and  happy,  will  ever  cherish  a  fond  and  loving  feeling  for  the 
old  days  on  the  range,  its  exciting  adventures,  good  horses, 
good  and  bad  men,  long  venturesome  rides,  Indian  fights  and 
last  but  foremost  the  friends  I  have  made  and  friends  I  have 
gained. 

FINIS 


